





I 


\ 


\ 


I 

\ 



V 





- I-' . . 

/ - ' - • • » ^ V '• 

' ->■<* y •?• ‘ 

.« /■ “ ^ , 


•.-■'• 3 ,- ''-f - 

• ./•''■V, ■>■ <• y ' i *-— '• • 

■ ■ 


• • f 

4 

1 


•■■..' , - . “ * ■ ’■’ r •' V ' '-t 

' .-., ^ f '■ ••.'■^-. ..-A.'- ■. .• . ^ • -• .■T.i-'> N^-.>',.'‘."yf-, ■ :.' 3 ' 

■•'■•.- . . - -- ■< ■ ( '.-f V . ;- 

' v.-v--^ . ■ •• ; ;•■ •-'■ • '-^ - 

- * • * ■ ^j> *’ ' ’ '’ • ’ *i J^f ' 

^ . .-: ■ ■■•- V 


• ^1 - 


r' . 


- ^ V 


■;A 


y 


\ ^ • . . • ' -^w , ' .. • ^ .'V • ' ■> •* V . 

I \ ^ ^ ' '<->,/ X '*• ^ • X • • ■ .V ^ *■ • ^ « ** 

• ■- • - ■■ *: ^. :.'- - . ^r. ':<;•%>■ ;- - K 

>'■' r' ” * ^ ' . . 1 • .- . ' • * "v * ‘ ' • ■*. • < ^^ - t' • * H*' <,». «1 

• '. - I,'’-- '■ ';Tl* 


p?/'" 


■ ■ ..•, . -’■ ■ ■;- ■;■ »■ 

• » ^ # 1 ^ f ^. '•* > I • « 

•''-' • '■ . ''x •'* --^r^ .'V ■ -4. V '.; 

» ' ^ • l' ^ I ' ■ *. • * , .* , , * • . 


i- 


v' "ir « , - “ • 

*, ., A - r 


'. C l*"^ ■* -r^ 

f 




- •» ; - >:? 

-r : / ' 

.. . • i I 


.. 


• 5 , ♦ -'.'V 


1 * 4 * ■* 

'#‘J- ^ 


- a> 7 i^ . •* . 

■ - f .*/ 

f X ^ * 


« k . 


- ■ 


^ i 

•i': 


/ 

i»' • 


; • 




) • 


■ - v" ' >T‘ v*.^^•- : 

. . , ■ .t >. ■". ■ 


■w ^V-. 


k 


*. ‘F.- aV- . -V 

tet*-'"- .h. 


'■ ^ 


\ 




X y - -y ^ 

. •• V -r irx.- 


i . 




•-* - < 


. ■'• k''- •.* 

C ' •■ .♦ 

. t 



V. X.: 


w ' 




^ * * 

•T y *‘^/ 

* ‘ V y 


. t 


H '• 


:. . " 
** « 


Vt^.> 




<•* 


iZi' .% 7 . --— 
s< • ■ . ** * 

sy- V ' **v , VV^/'V , F . 

r"' sT 

'X "' • ' 

v.vV-. 


V 


^ -^ . • r* t<T*’ 

F- ^ ^ 1 , SSf* ^ 


•• 4 


* » 


»/ 


V 




*1 


3^ ., 


- - - .- t:,* 

V * y - ;•V^ ' . 



I 




r* 

• ’ /,' 


). 




’ t 


<5 a*> ^ ^ 

iTf** . V - ' F - 

IV^Vv ■ <w* • ^ ., ^ 

' A' ■ . ^ i. ,?N- .* ■ 

^i. .: eaK; ' ■ • v- 




* ■^' 


■i:.-. ^ 'J .•_. - .'V 



. ' ' ' ‘r .'■ ^A- 

■*“ ■ X i 3 ' • .-. ^4 * X 

» • V:.'- "" 'ml- ■• .. .^^' 




««•* * * -y . _ 


'■ ■; r ‘ * ./>■'; . . • ' . ^ ; v z. 

‘ ' ' ' • ■ ' '"’■ ' 
^^•V" • ‘•*V - v*-,'' '. 

-»M ■• V' -, t 

.. »r. 

•% 


rv. 




• . - «r 

4 




. 


A ^ 


^7 




'.•* 'C 


V 


•4- 


*• ■>»■ 


X". 


. V 


'a 


" t-! .- 

•X' : 








‘f *%• 


yiffjsw' .i:;;? ■' - 


• •) 

>’ 


. I -v 


.C 


'#V 




< f 


I • T 


> 


*-• * A. 


■. X' s' . 




9 0. 






* 




\ - 




V • 


V.. 4 Jk V . 


r « # 


-•% 




^ ' . 


•%-• .' •• - t**'. - 

■ ' " M / 

■ >• 


■^■' ‘*^ C’< :n' . “'■ ' 
• ' - 

9 . 



V' -T* -. ; .r-.>. “'a 

4 • - 


N '. 


- >. j 


t 

✓ 


. 4 


■• t 

^ *• A - 


y > 


.V*- 


I, 


- !- 

K. . f 


r^ . -* ff-* ^ s ,.£•?■ ’ » « ' ^ ' _. 


% » 


' s * •- 


.r *» -»rs> I • 


■ /•. *. ■ 


\ 

J f.'< 


A- 


-v* 

i 


N 


r •jfcV • . i.* ,' * -I* »• - 

l^. - ^ » • 

- *■ •• .'*^' 
i ' ■- r ’'' ■^'V 





• < 


A 


,'v- 




•-r-wv' 




W:- 


f • 

^ * 


r r. 


-^A- - V--^ .’V 'f. . ..-. 


4 

w •A't V 7 ^' . 

• • ‘i - 

« ^ I 


XV * 


, * 

- / 


,»• ' 


■■^ r"-. 


« '<• 


« • ^ 

’^'ir.-- V 

‘ * "* w 


I 


•i-- - ♦ 


* ♦ 


V 

.» .K 


U^::; - >- 

"i'V' --.•.>>> 

• I 1 ► 




N 


-i' ■• 


1' ' \ 


U'- \ '( '■‘- V r" 

’JX' •»*' 




'Li'^ 


\ 


A 

» 


•<* - , . 










'tv ■' 

" -i. - S*-^ • * 




A. 


\ .* 


A 


: ' ' t .^ ' 

r ^ _ 




» V • « "v’ 


• 


•■^ A. -^v - s»^ ' ^ • . • , , - • , 

I t -V ■{ J . ■ » ' *-*C ■**^'^** “' • • • *'•* Lj S ‘ ''k*-»»S 

5 !'' C-^ ►' • -■ ic’ 9 ^ XiiK 


^ - 


/ 

• < 

»' ^ 


-> ' 


• f 


■» ■ 

A - '' 

' V.* • 

• • '_ > ./. 


V,’ 'v-.-'X' ' •;:. .■^■, ; . .V^'\ ^ ' 'X .-IT: '' 

• iX...,"-' '•' ', ^ •‘V.'X^ ';,/fe' '■ / ■ . '\'*, ;.'■ "J" ,• ; . r:.' . '"''i 1 ,>! ••vj*^..v 


N * 

• • ' * J-. 



“ IT IS WORK, WORK FROM JANUARY TO DECEMBER.” 

Page 8. 



THE 


TURNING OF THE WHEEL 



BY 


MARY DWINELL CHELLIS 


AUTHOR OF “MISS BELINDA’S FRIENDS”; “PROFIT AND LOSS”; “BREAD 
AND BEER”; “OUR HOMES”; “ALL FOR MONEY ”; “FROM FATHER 
TO SON”; “THE BREWERY AT TAYLORVILLE ”; “THE 
BREWER’S fortune”; “WEALTH AND WINE,” 

ETC., ETC. 



NEW YORK: 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House, 

58 READE STREET. 

1887. 


— 




COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY THE 

National Temperance Society and Publication House. 


Edward O. Jenkins’ Sons, 
Printers and Stereotypers ^ 
20 North William St., New York. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 


The Old Mortgage, 


Jane, . 


CHAPTER II. 


CHAPTER HI. 


The Home Visit, 


CHAPTER IV. 

The Young Blacksmith, . . . 


CHAPTER V. 


PAGE 

7 


. 23 


. 36 


• 51 


Housekeeping, . 


. 66 


4 


Contents. 


CHAPTER VI. 

VAGE 

Gransir Tolman, 82 

CHAPTER VH. 

Mrs. Greyland, 99 

CHAPTER VHI. 

Jim Carroll, iii 

CHAPTER IX. 

Marian Gresham, 121 

CHAPTER X. 

A New Business Firm, 133 

CHAPTER XL 

In the Old Canadian Home, 148 

CHAPTER XII. 

Sam Mitchell’s Guardian, 162 

> CHAPTER XHI. 


Contrasted Lives, . 


. 179 


Contents. 


1 

CHAPTER XIV. 


Sure to be Rich, 


5 


PACK 

194 


CHAPTER XV. 
A Fitting Marriage, 


210 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The Reunion, . . 224 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Madam Masters - . . . . 240 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Teetotalers, 255 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Foot of the Ladder, 269 

CHAPTER XX. 

The New Boss, ...... . . 282 

CHAPTER XXI. 


James Gresham Carroll 


. 294 


6 Contents, 

CHAPTER XXII. 

PAGE 

A Strange Night, 308 

CHAPTER XXHI. 

The Tragedy at Yatesville, 321 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


The Gresham Coat of Arms, 


332 


The Turning of the Wheel 


CHAPTER 1. 

THE OLD MORTGAGE. 

It had been a day in which to dream, and 
hope, and pray ; a day to gladden the heart and 
draw one nearer Heaven. For artist or poet, 
never had day offered more than this. The 
labor of the summer was over and the harvest 
had been garnered. 

Farmer Mitchell was calculating the value of 
his harvest, when a child exclaimed : 

'' See, father, see the light on the hills. It is 
like what mother read about in the old book 
last Sunday. Is it the same the pilgrim saw on 
the hills ? ” 

“ No, child ; it is only the sunset,” replied the 
father coldly. “ It won’t last long, anyway.” 

“ If it is only the sunset, I know it won’t last 
long,’’ said the child, in a voice from which all 
enthusiasm and gladness had fled. “ But grand- 
pa says there is a light like what the pilgrim 
saw,” she added directly. 

“ I wish I could see a light of some kind,” 

( 7 ) 


8 The Ttirning of the Wheel. 

muttered John Mitchell. “ It is work, work, 
from January to December, and the old mort- 
gage hanging ’round my neck like a millstone. 
I don’t see why father couldn’t have done as 
well as Gransir Tolman,” and the speaker, who 
was now alone, looked from the low, rambling 
cottage, he called home, to the somewhat stately 
mansion a mile away. 

Mr. Tolman’s house was at once the pride 
and envy of the town. To Mr. Mitchell it was 
a constant reminder of his own poverty, and on 
this October evening it assumed such gigantic 
proportions that he could see nothing beyond it. 

The next day he must go to this house and 
pay the interest on a mortgage which had en- 
cumbered his farm when he received it from his 
father. He could not pay one cent of the prin- 
cipal ; and it was this fact which weighed down 
his spirits, and made him sullen and morose. 
Week after week small economies were prac- 
ticed, and pennies saved which should be spent, 
all that the mortgage might be reduced ; and 
yet in twenty years it was not one whit the less. 

The farm was large and productive, while the 
hill pastures never failed to supply an abundance 
of herbage. Still the long-cherished dream of 
independence seemed no nearer its fruition than 
when the dreamer had brought his fair, young 


9 


The Old Mortgage. 

bride to the low-browed cottage. She had come 
here willingly, gladly ; although she might have 
married a comparatively wealthy man. 

The expression of John Mitchell’s face soft- 
ened a little as he thought of this, and remem- 
bered how proud he had been of Bessie Dean’s 
preference. He remembered, too, how heartily 
Richard I'olman had congratulated him, as they 
stood side by side, waiting for their turn to 
join the band of mowers. He recalled the very 
words then spoken by his comrade. 

“I know I should make Bessie Dean as good 
a husband as you will, John, but she has chosen 
you, and it is not for me to say she has made a 
mistake. The one who could win her is the 
one who has a right to her, but you must let 
me tell you that she is different from most of 
the girls around here. She knows how to work 
and she is willing to work, but sometimes she 
will want to hear a loving word and be petted 
as you would pet a baby.” There was a tremor 
in Richard Tolman’s voice, but the hand he 
extended was given cordially, as he said : “ I 
wish you success and happiness.” 

Mrs, John Mitchell was a pale-faced woman, 
upon whom woman’s lot had fallen heavily. 
The mother of eight children who claimed her 
care, and of two who had early left her, she had 


lo The Ttir fling of the Wheel. 

yet performed much of the household work 
usually devolving upon a farmer’s wife. The 
light had faded from her eyes, while of the abun- 
dance of glossy brown hair which once crowned 
her head, there remained scarce enough to hold 
in place the comb which confined it. Her thin 
lips were drawn tightly over teeth no longer of 
pearly whiteness ; and one who had not seen 
her for twenty years would never have recog- 
nized her as “ Pretty Bessie Dean.” 

Yet she did not complain. Time was when 
there had been a grieved look about her mouth, 
but that time was past. She rose with the sun 
and went about her daily work, talking little. 
She was never severe with her children, although 
she gave to them less of attention than their 
best interests demanded. Kate, the eldest, and a 
brother, scarce two years her junior, had been pet- 
ted and caressed ; and quick to recognize the feel- 
ings of others, gave to the younger children some- 
thing of the tenderness denied by their parents. 

With the baby in her arms, Kate was stand- 
ing by a window gazing absently at the western 
sky, when Orne came to her side and said in an 
undertone : 

“ Father has been cross all day. It is hard to 
work as I do, and never have anybody think I 
have done quite enough,” 


The Old Mortgage, 1 1 

“ It is the mortgage that troubles father,” an- 
swered Kate, threading her fingers through her 
brother’s tangled hair. “If that was off his 
mind, everything would be different. I wish I 
could earn the money and pay it up, but there 
is not much chance for a girl to earn more than 
seventy* five cents or a dollar a week anywhere 
around here. It would take a long time to save 
enough for the mortgage, at that rate, even if 
mother could spare me.” 

“ I could do better than that, if I had my 
time, but it is of no use to talk of that. I 
don’t see but we must go on in the same old 
way. One thing is sure, however; I shall not 
take this farm, mortgage and all, on my shoul- 
ders, as father did. I know too much for that. 
Just look at mother. She is tired nearly to 
death all of the time, and father doesn’t seem to 
think anything about it. Grandfather makes 
as little trouble as possible ; but he needs a good 
deal of care, and the mortgage troubles him as 
much as it does father. I heard them talking 
about it yesterday, and he said he didn’t know 
how it was that Neighbor Tolman had so much 
better luck than he had. I wish I knew. I 
would try my hand at the same kind of luck. 
I know how it is going to be this fall. We 
must do with just as little as we can ; make the 


12 The Ttir 7 iing of the Wheel. 

old clothes go another winter ; and see if we 
can save an extra dollar.” 

“ Look at the clouds, Orne. See how beauti- 
ful they are.” 

“ I can’t ; I don’t care for the clouds. Look 
at father, and mother, and this baby. Darling 
as she is, I almost hated her at first, because 
there was another mouth to feed and another 
body to clothe.” 

“ How can you talk so, Orne ? She is the 
greatest comfort I have, and I know you love 
her.” 

To be sure I do. I don’t begrudge any of 
the children what they eat, or drink, or wear. 
But if there were only two of us, the mortgage 
would have been paid long ago, *and mother 
would not be the worn-out old woman she is 
now. There is a wrong somewhere, and I wish 
I knew how to right it.” 

Perhaps it was well that this conversation 
should be interrupted, although the words which 
had been spoken could not be forgotten. The 
thoughts involved were not new to the brother 
and sister, yet never before had they taken such 
clearly defined shape. Henceforth, the mortgage 
would be a real, tangible presence, dwelling 
among them, until its absence could be purchased 
by the payment of a certain amount of money. 


13 


The Old Mortgage, 

How could the money be obtained ? Kate 
Mitchell asked herself this question again and 
again, as she surveyed the basket of torn and 
worn garments which must be repaired, because 
the raw material for new ones could not be af- 
forded. Well skilled in the use of her needle, 
she declined her mother s assistance and worked 
until late in the evening ; yet she was first to 
enter the kitchen, the next morning, after her 
father had lighted the fire. 

• “ You are early,” he said. 

“ Yes, sir ; I want to help mother-what I can, 
and then I want the horse to go ten miles,” she 
replied. 

I can’t spare the horse, and besides, your 
mother needs your help.” 

“Are you going to use the horse to-day?” 
asked Kate in response to her father’s remarks. 

“ Perhaps I shall. I don’t know. I hadn’t 
thought anything about it.” 

“ Then why not let me have it ? I must go 
ten miles, to-day, and it is too far for me to walk. 
I don’t often ask you for the horse or anything 
else,” said the young girl bitterly ; I think I 
have worked hard enough, the last six months.” 

“Well, Kate, what next?” exclaimed Mr. 
Mitchell impatiently. “ I have worked hard, 
too, and what have I got for it ? ” 


14 The lur7ting of the Wheel, 

“All I could give you, father; and if I could 
do any more for you, I would.” 

“ I know it, Kate. You are a good girl,” re- 
sponded the father, laying his hand caressingly 
upon her head. “ I am worried this fall, so 
don’t lay up anything against me. We have all 
worked hard, but we have only held our own 
at that. You can have the horse, and Orne 
too, if you want him. I guess he would like 
a play-day. I didn’t have many when I was a 
boy, and sinee then I haven’t found time for 
them.” 

When John Mitehell took the home farm 
from his father, he had not doubted that he 
should soon remove the eneumbrance upon it, 
and now he could hardly understand why he had 
failed to realize his expectations. Going out into 
the gray dawning, with the Tolman house full 
in view, he made a mental calculation of the 
amount of interest he had paid on the mort- 
gage. It was not much, each year, but on this 
partieular morning it seemed an actual fortune. 
He lingered over his work, searce heeding that 
his hands were employed, until one of the chil- 
dren called him to breakfast. 

There v/as an abundance of plain, substantial 
food, well cooked, and neatly arranged upon the 
table. Reverently the aged grandsire thanked 


The Old Mortgage. 


15 


God for all His mercies; and asked that, as 
they received their daily bread, it might be 
blessed to their entire well-being. 

Kate and Orne were too much excited with 
the prospect of a drive, to care much for eating, 
and the breakfast did not long detain any mem- 
ber of the family. The ordinary morning's 
work was hurried through, and directions given 
to Mary, who was to take her elder sister’s place 
for the day. A little past nine, the old wagon 
was driven to the door. 

“ I can’t think what makes you so anxious to 
see the Slader girls,” said Orne, when they were 
fairly on their way. “ I never knew that you 
were acquainted with them.” 

“ I am not acquainted with them, but they 
know some things I am anxious to find out, 
and I think they will be willing to tell me,” was 
replied. “ They have paid up for their farm, 
and they earned the money themselves.” 

-What if they did?” 

-Nothing; only I can do as much work as 
either of the Slader girls.” 

A long, low whistle was the response to this 
remark. Indeed, Orne seemed to forget that 
any such remark had been made, and his sister 
was too much absorbed in thought to heed his 
silence. At length, however, he said : 


1 6 The Ttcrning of the Wheel, 

“ The Slader girls have worked in a cotton 
factory three years.” 

“Yes, and I want to know what that work 
is like.” 

“ It is hard enough ; up early in the morning, 
and working till late at night, with hardly time 
to eat and breathe at noon.” 

“And when pay-day comes, they can take 
the money they have earned. If any girl in the 
factory has worked harder than I have the last 
six months, I pity her, and I haven’t as much 
as a new calico dress to show for it, either.” 

“ I know all about it, Kate, and it is a shame 
for a girl like you to work so. But what can 
be done about it? There is Jane Tolman, off 
visiting and wearing silk dresses, and she is no 
better than you are. She isn’t half as good- 
looking, either. That is what everybody says. 
But there is money in her family, and not a 
spare dollar in ours. If I live to act for myself, 
I will see if I can’t do better than drag along as 
father has. When I get into my shop, I forget 
about it, but the rest of the time I want to 
scold because we are so poor. Say, Kate, you 
haven’t any idea of going to work in a cotton 
factory, have you ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” she answered absently ; add- 
ing in the same breath: “Yes, I have. I 


17 


The Old Mortgage. 

thought about it . all night, and if I can carry 
out my plans, I shall work there long enough 
to earn three hundred dollars. Now I have 
told you all I know abouf it.” 

“ Father never will give his consent. Mother 
can’t spare you, and I can’t live without you. 
You are the mainstay of the family. Not but 
what mother does all she can, and ten times 
what she ought to, but she can’t work as she 
used to. You know that as well as I do.” 

“ I know it better than you do ; and it is be- 
cause I know it, that I have made up my mind 
there must be a change.” 

“ Dear me ! I wish father was rich,” ex- 
claimed Orne. “ I wish all the money in the 
country was equally divided among the people. 
It is my opinion we should get a larger share 
than we have now.” 

“ We might get less. Mr. Tolman is the 
richest man in town, and there are some others 
that are ‘ forehanded,’ as grandfather says. But 
there are others who just make enough to keep 
out of the poorhouse, and they would spend in 
five years all Mi*. Tolman has, if they only had 
it in their hands. Old Mr. Tolman had no more < 
than grandfather had, when they came here and 
began to clear up land for their farms.” 

“ I know it ; but just give me an equal chance 


1 8 The Turning of the Wheel, 

with Preston Tolman, and see if I get in debt 
to him. I can’t understand how grandfather came 
to be so foolish as to put a mortgage on his farm.” 

“ He probably did the best he could under 
the circumstances.” 

“ Bother take the circumstances. I don’t in- 
tend to have any in my life that I can’t manage.” 

“ Perhaps there are none in your life at pres- 
ent.” 

“1 am sorry to say that there are. Circum- 
stances are such, that I don’t feel very well satis- 
fied with the prospects of Kate and Orne Mitch- 
ell, nor with their clothes, either. I expect you 
will find the Slader girls as fine as peacocks. 
They are good-looking too.” 

“ They are called good-looking and sensible. 
The sensible is what I want to see them for.” 

Benjamin Slader had been a man who was 
never able to get ahead in the world. He 
worked hard, lived frugally, and calculated as 
wisely as he could ; yet he did not free his farm 
from the debt incurred when it was purchased. 
Some said it was because his children were all 
girls, and he had no boys to help him ; but 
others, with plenty of boys, were no richer than 
he. Yet he could hardly be considered poor; 
since his abounding good nature and cheerful 
spirit were worth more to him than the piles of 


The Old Mortgage. 19 

Mexican dollars upon which many prided them- 
selves, and which they were willing to loan on 
good security. 

Although working as hard as her neighbors, 
Mrs. Slader was never discouraged. Life never 
seemed to her a burden she would gladly lay 
aside. The seven girls she had welcomed to 
her home received loving care and wise training. 
The eldest of these girls was twenty years of 
age, when the husband and father died suddenly. 

For a little no one could decide what should 
be done ; but when the first burst of grief was 
over, Susan, who had been her father’s almost 
constant companion since she could walk, de- 
cided that the farm must not be sold. Stock, 
utensils, and all must be retained. She knew 
her father’s plans for the year ; knew the amount 
of grain in store, and the number of bushels 
which could be spared. 

If there had been a market near at hand, 
where the surplus products of the farm could 
be exchanged for money, all immediate demands 
might have been met. But the market was far 
away, and the demand for money was greater 
than for what money would purchase. 

After repeated consultations, Susan and her 
sister Lucy resolved to try their fortunes as 
operatives in one of the cotton-mills of an ad- 


20 The Turjting of the Wheel. 

joining State. For them it seemed a formidable 
undertaking ; but they went, nothing doubting, 
and the event proved their wisdom. The old 
debt was paid, the mortgage cancelled, and the 
home farm was dearer than ever before. At the 
time of Kate Mitchell’s visit, they had been at 
home during the summer, enjoying with keen 
zest the comforts and beauties surrounding them. 

Although strangers, the visitors were cordial- 
ly welcomed, and hardly was Kate in the house, 
when she frankly stated the reason of her com- 
ing, and asked for advice. 

“I cannot advise you. I can tell you how 
and what I have done, and that is all,” replied 
Susan Slader. 

This she did ; answering many questions, and 
careful to describe the dark as well as the bright 
side of factory life, so that no false expectations 
might be raised. 

Orne spent most of the day with a young man 
employed on the farm, with whom he had some 
acquaintance. Talking of such matters as in- 
terestea them, they drifted into a discussion of 
the comparative profits of different kinds of la- 
bor. Orne Mitchell had no taste for farming. 
If from a shapeless piece of iron he fashioned a 
nail or bolt, he seemed to accomplish more, than 
if he dropped a seed into the ground and then 


The Old Mortgage, 21 

waited for rain and sunshine to develop the germ 
contained in this seed. 

, “ The place for you is in one of the big shops 

where the factories are/’ said his companion. 
‘‘ You would get good wages after a while, and 
I guess you would like it. But I should die, to 
be shut up. I should rather hold a breaking-up 
plow all day, than work under a roof. If I ever 
own a hundred acres of land, free and clear, with 
a house large enough for two, I shall be as hap- 
py as a king.” 

I hope you will get the land, and the house, 
and the company you want,” was the laughing 
response. “ I have some notions in my head I 
can’t see the end of yet, but if I live to be twenty- 
one years old, I shall try something besides farm- 
ing for a living.” 

“Are you going with Susan Slader?” asked 
Orne Mitchell of his sister, when they had start- 
ed for home. 

“ I intend to. I think I can get Aunt Dolly 
to help mother. It will cost no more to board 
her than to board me, and I can pay her wages. 
I planned it all last night, and if you will help 
me, there is not much danger but I can carry 
out my plans. I shall talk with grandfather 
first, and get him on my side.” 

“What am I to do, if you go away ?” 


2 2 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“The best you can. It is partly on your ac- 
count 1 am anxious to earn money. Then there 
is another thing : I want to know more. I want 
some books — and — and — It is of no use to tell 
all I want, even if I could.” 


CHAPTER 11. 


JANE. 

There were children's faces pressed against 
the window, and bright eyes watching eagerly 
for the return of these young people. Ques- 
tions assailed them on every side ; and Kate, 
nothing loth, gave a graphic description of what 
she had seen and heard. 

'' They say those girls have paid off the old 
debt, and got something beforehand,” remarked 
the grandfather. 

“ That is what they told me,” replied Kate. 

That is a good thing, but I am afraid the 
factories won't be any help to the country in 
the long run. When a set of men get too 
much money in their hands, it is apt to make 
them arbitrary, and that makes it hard for poor 
folks. We need to keep things pretty near 
even, or we shall lose our independence.” 

But things are not even, now, grandfather. 
They are not even here in this town, although I 
have heard you say that the first settlers were 
about on a level in regard to property.” 

t23) 


24 The Turning of the WheeL 

“Yes, child, yes. I don’t see how it hap- 
pened, but some are a great deal better off, now, 
than others. I tried to do as well as I could, 
but I suppose that sometimes I spent a dollar I 
ought to have saved. I can’t account for it in 
any other way and a shadow passed over the 
old man’s face, as he thought of the mortgage. 

“ Grandfather’s room ” — it had been “ Grand- 
mother’s room ” until she went to the upper 
home — was the haven of rest in this family. 
From the mother to the youngest child, all 
counted it a privilege to sit by its vine-draped 
windows in summer and its cheerful fire in 
winter. When supper was over, the Bible read, 
and prayer offered, the grandfather went to his 
room as usual. 

“May I come too?” asked Kate. “I want 
to talk with you.” 

“Yes, child, come,” was the reply. “I am 
afraid I shall be poor company, but I am always 
glad to have you with me. I have been lone- 
some to-day.” 

The two were soon seated by the hearth ; the 
old man in a homely arm-chair, and the young 
girl on a stool at his feet. Her head rested 
upon his knee, and his hand was laid upon her 
shoulder. 

“ I have something to tell you,” she said. 


Jane, 


25 


“ Yes, child, I am ready to listen,” he answered. 

Neither question nor comment. Kate gave 
no opportunity for either. She talked rapidly 
and earnestly until all was said. Then, raising 
her head and looking into the deeply-lined face, 
she asked : 

“ Will you help me ? ” 

“ I wish I could,” was the response. '' I 
wish I could, but it isn’t right for you to work 
to pay my debts. There is something wrong 
about it.” Here the old man paused to wipe 
away the fast-falling tears ; adding presently : 
“ I ought to have been as well off as Neighbor 
Tolman. I don’t understand it, but he was al- 
ways forehanded, when I wasn’t.” 

In vain he wondered. The fact remained 
the same, and it was also a fact that unless the 
mortgage was paid, it would still encumber the 
farm. Kate pleaded her cause eloquently, and 
at length gained the desired approval. 

It was well that she had secured her grand- 
father’s influence ; since her father at first re- 
fused to consider her proposal. Yet before two 
days had passed, self-interest had so far modi- 
fied his views, that he allowed his daughter to 
decide for herself, and Susan Slader was in- 
formed that she might expect a companion on 
her return to her work. 


26 The Turning of the Wheel. 

Aunt Dolly was only too glad to spend the 
winter with Mrs. Mitchell : asking only such 
wages as could be easily paid ; and preparations 
were hastened for what then seemed a formida- 
ble undertaking. 

During a long stage ride the newly-formed 
acquaintance ripened into a warm friendship ; 
so that when they reached their destination, 
Kate Mitchell regarded her companion almost 
as a sister. Yet the first days of her experi- 
ence in a cotton-mill were so bewildering and 
fatiguing, that she was well-nigh ready to relin- 
quish all hope of earning the money she so 
much desired. 

'' Don’t be discouraged,” said her friend. 

There must always be some sacrifice if any- 
thing is to be gained. In three months you 
will wonder you could ever feel as you do to- 
day.” 

Weeks went by. The homesick girl was 
quick to learn what was required of her, and 
this, with her obliging disposition, soon made 
her a favorite. She received long letters from 
home which cheered and encouraged her. She 
found, also, that she was not alone in working 
for others. 

There were women of all ages working 
around her. Attracted by the prospect of earn- 


Jane. 


27 


ing larger wages than they could possibly earn 
elsewhere, they had come from all parts of New 
England to the city of spindles. Many had 
aged parents, or young brothers and sisters 
dependent upon them. Some were widows, 
whose children would have only such as they 
could give them ; and some, alas ! were worse 
than widowed ; with husbands ready to seize 
what they might earn and spend it for intoxicat- 
ing liquor, while mother and children suffered 
for the very necessaries of life. 

Seeing all this, and coming in close contact 
with those who staggered beneath burdens they 
alone could bear, Kate Mitchell learned how 
much she had for which to be thankful. 

Grandfather was one of the first in town to 
give up the use of liquor in haying and harvest- 
ing. I have heard him talk about it, but I 
never thought of it as any very serious matter,’' 
she remarked to her friend and room-mate, 
when the subject of temperance was under con- 
sideration. 

“ It is a serious matter,” was replied. “ If 
you had lived as near neighbor to a drunkard 
as we have, you would feel differently. Peter 
Small was miserably poor ; so poor, that often 
there was not enough in the house for one meal, 
yet he always managed to buy rum and tobacco. 


28 The Turning of the Wheel. 

As we were always in debt, I suppose we were 
poor ; but we never suffered for want of food 
or fire. I have heard my father say there never 
was a pauper in town, except such as were made 
so by somebody spending for rum what ought 
to be spent for bread and meat.” 

“ I have heard my grandfather say the same 
thing, but there was never any occasion for me 
to be very much interested in the subject. I 
don’t know that any one related to me is in 
danger of drinking too much.” 

‘'Any is too much. Nothing short of total 
abstinence will keep a man safe ; and I wonder 
any woman dares trust her happiness in the 
hands of a man who has not a decided principle 
against the use of all intoxicating drinks. I 
know of ten women working in the same room 
with us, who are liable at any time to lose their 
wages, by having their husbands call for it on 
pay-day. One woman told me, last week, that 
she had worked every day for three months, and 
been paid not a cent of her earnings. Her hus- 
band takes them.” 

“ But why does she submit to it ?” 

“ Because she must. A married woman be- 
longs to her husband with whatever property 
she may have or earn ; so you see she has no 
redress. The husband, no matter how bad he 


Jane. 


29 


may be, has a legal right to her earnings. But, 
Kate, there is a good time coming, when women 
will count for more than they do now ; when, 
married or single, they will have rights which 
must be respected. Have you noticed the wom- 
an we all call ‘Jane ’ ? 

“ I have, and wondered about her too. She 
works as if her life depended upon her accom- 
plishing the utmost in her power.” 

“ I have often thought that, and wished I 
dared express my sympathy for her, but she re- 
pels all advances toward acquaintance.” 

“She makes large wages.” 

“ There are but two women in the mill who 
make as much, yet she spends very little on her- 
self. She hires a room, and cooks her own food. 
She is first at work in the morning, and last at 
night, and she never leaves the mill at noon.” 

“ She must have a history.” 

“You maybe sure of that. She could not 
seem to work more mechanically if she was a 
part of the looms. She never speaks when she 
can avoid it, and her name on the pay-roll is 
simply ‘Jane.’ She must be very unhappy.” 

“ How long has she been here ?” 

“ For more than a year, and in all that time, 
so far as I know, she has never invited any one 
to her room.” 


30 The Turning of the Wheel. 

In less than a week after this short colloquy 
between Susan Slader and Kate Mitchell, the 
woman known as “Jane” had one hand so se- 
verely injured in the machinery, that she was 
obliged to accept assistance in caring for it. 

“It is nothing serious,” she said, with an ef- 
fort to speak calmly. “ I cannot work for a few 
hours, but ” 

Here she fainted, and it was not until after the 
lapse of some minutes that she regained con- 
sciousness. 

“ I am tired ; oh ! so tired ; but I will send 
the money as soon as I can,” she whispered, 
hoarsely ; then opening her eyes with a startled 
look, she gazed around, as if in dread of some 
impending evil. 

One could see that it was with a desperate 
effort she controlled herself, and rising to her 
feet, prepared to leave the mill, Susan Slader 
accompanying her to the old house in which she 
found shelter. 

“You must allow me to go in, and see what 
more can be done for you,” said her companion, 
as she turned to express her thanks. 

“ It is not necessary. I will not trouble you,” 
she answered ; yet even then her cheeks paled 
and her lips quivered. “ It must be so,” she 
added presently. “ I ought to be stronger, but 


Jane, 31 

T passed a sleepless night, and the pain is se- 
vere.” 

Going up some winding stairs, she opened 
the door of her room, and passed in, followed 
by Susan Slader, who was astonished at what 
she saw. Everything was scrupulously clean ; 
but for all which appeared, it might have been 
the home of a beggar. A stove, two chairs, a 
table, and a low bedstead, on which was a straw 
bed, with the plainest of coverings, were the 
only articles of furniture to be seen. There was 
a Bible on the table, and the picture of a beau- 
tiful boy, hanging on the otherwise bare walls. 

“ My boy as he was,” said Jane, while the 
expression of pain deepened about her mouth. 
“ I have a right to motherhood, for I am a wife,” 
she added. “Were it not for my boy, I should 
curse the day when I became a wife. But I am 
talking wildly. Forget my words. My head 
is strange, to-day, or I should not have been 
hurt.” 

“You can trust me,” was replied. “Your 
secret, if secret it is, is safe with me.” 

“ It is a secret. God pity and pardon me if 
I am wrong ; but there are griefs too terrible to 
be borne, unless they can be kept from public 
sight. There is no one here to pity me, and 
that has made my lot easier to be borne.” 


32 The Turning of the Wheel. 

I would be glad to give you sympathy and 
help.” 

“Only God can help me, and sometimes it 
seems as though He had forgotten me in my 
trouble. My book of promises, copied from 
the Bible, is all that sustains me. But I must 
not forget my hand.” 

No bones were broken, but the flesh was 
badly lacerated and would require time for heal- 
ing. Fortunately it was the left hand. 

“ I am thankful it is no worse,” said the poor 
woman, when it had been carefully re-dressed. 
“ I can work to-morrow.” 

“Not to-morrow,” responded Susan Slader, 
decidedly. 

“ I must ; I cannot be idle for a single day. 
There is too much at stake. I have told you so 
much of myself, that I must tell you more when 
you have tinie to listen.” 

“May I come this evening?” 

“ I shall be glad to see you.” 

“Can' I bring you anything to make you 
more comfortable?” 

“Nothing, thank you. My cupboard is not 
empty. I will rest until evening.” 

At evening the visitor was cordially welcomed 
by “Jane,” who professed to be so sure of strength, 
that no more time would need be lost from work. 


Jane. 


33 


I am glad to see you,” she said after a 
slightly awkward silenee. ‘'It has seemed, all 
the afternoon, as though God sent you to me.” 

“ Then you will let me help you.” . 

“ I shall be thankful for your friendship. I 
thought I eould go on alone, but my tired heart 
is starving for a friend. Call me Jane, until I 
dare tell you the name I ^ceepted when I was 
married. My husband is a drunkard, and my 
boy is an idiot ; made so by his father’s cruelty. 
I purchased freedom from my husband’s presence, 
with the right to care for my child, by the pay- 
ment of a certain amount of money each 
month. If I should fail to send the monthly 
payment, it would be better for my boy and my- 
self to die, than be in the power of a man who 
cares for nothing but the gratification of his 
worst passions. 

“ I have now told you the outlines of my 
story. I cannot bring myself to tell you more, 
but you will understand, now, how necessary it 
is for me to work.” 

“ I do, unless there is some other way.” 

“ There is no other way. Since I have tested 
them, I have learned that the laws bear hard 
upon women ; harder in Old England than New 
England, but they are hard everywhere. You 
are a New England woman.” 


34 


The Tu7'ni7tg of the Wheel. 

I am, thank God.” 

“ You have reason to thank God. I presume 
you are not rich.” 

“ I am not. I came here to earn money, be- 
cause it was needed in my home ; but I do not 
feel obliged to work when I need to rest. I 
have something saved, so that if I wish to take 
a vacation, I can do so.” 

“ You are blessed in that, but there are no 
vacations for me. The more I earn, the more 
my husband demands, and sometimes I cannot 
help feeling that I am watched.” 

“ Does your husband know where you are ? ” 

“ I am not sure about that. I have tried to 
hide from him, and I never communicate di- 
rectly with him ; but I am beginning to distrust 
the one in whom I have long had the utmost 
confidence. If that person fails me, I shall 
despair. I have grown so tired of the struggle 
against my fate, that but for my boy, I should 
pray to die. And yet. Miss Slader, no young 
girl ever expected more of happiness than did 
I. My life has been a terrible disappointment.” 

Miss Slader had no words to express the 
emotions awakened by this story of wrong and 
outrage. She was dumb before a sorrow of 
which she could have no adequate conception. 
As she walked slowly toward the house where 


35 


Jane, 

she was one of a large family of boarders, she 
could only think over and over again what she 
had heard. 

“ I cannot tell you what has been told to me, 
but Jane must be helped. She cannot afford to 
lose an hour’s work, yet her hand needs at least 
a week’s rest. I can do extra work for that 
length of time, and in the morning I must see 
what others will do.” 

“ I will do all I can,” Kate Mitchell replied 
to her room-mate, who had not waited to be 
questioned in regard to her interview with 
“Jane.” 

“ I knew you would, and I think we can 
make up a purse for her, so that she can have 
something for herself. She is obliged to con- 
sider those dependent upon her ; and after hear- 
ing her story, I pity her as I never pitied any 
one before.” 

It required no persuasion to induce others to 
assume extra work for their unfortunate sister, 
so that she could not but submit to the kind- 
ness forced upon her. When the pay-roll was 
made up there stood against her name as large 
a sum as she had ever received for a month’s 
wages ; and in addition, twenty-five dollars were 
given her as a token of friendship ; this amount 
having been contributed by fifty individuals. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE HOME VISIT. 

Kate Mitchell had been in the city of 
spindles but little more than six months, when 
there occurred a strike among the mill opera- 
tives. The provocation for this was so slight, 
that even those most active in its promotion 
afterward wondered at what they had done ; 
and although the strike was quite general, there 
were some who remained at work, doing their 
best. 

This, of course, secured the favor of those 
superintending the different departments of 
work, so that large wages were earned. But 
the workers were subjected to bitter ridicule, 
and also to a notoriety they would gladly have 
avoided. 

Among them none felt this more keenly 
than did Jane, who regarded anything which 
brought her into notice as a positive calamity. 
One morning, when the excitement was in- 
tense, she made her way to Susan Slader, with 
arms extended and face ghastly pale. 

(36) 


The Home Visit, 


37 


“ What is it ? ” asked her friend. 

'' He is here. I have seen him,” she answered, 
f Who is here ?” 

“ My husband. It must be that he has 
tracked me. He did not know that I saw him, 
and I am sure he did not see me ; but if T stay 
here I cannot escape him. This must be my 
last day here. But where shall I go ? I must 
work somewhere. Tell me what to do. I can- 
not think for myself. Think for me. You are 
the only person I can trust.” 

It was hard to know what was best for this 
poor woman to do, but after much consultation 
a plan was matured and executed. The next 
day “Jane” was gone, only Susan Slader and 
Kate Mitchell knowing her intended destina- 
tion. A week later they received a paper she 
had sent ; thus informing them that she was 
safe. She would assume a part of her maiden 
name ; so hoping to escape the recognition she 
feared. 

Enough of her story had been told to secure 
the payment of her wages, the usual amount of 
which was forwarded to the relative having the 
care of her child ; but at the general pay-day a 
well-dressed man presented himself as the hus- 
band of Mrs. Greyland, and therefore entitled 
to receive whatever was her due. 


33 The Turning of the Wheel. 

We have no such name on our books,” said 
the paymaster ; and turning away, gave the 
stranger no further heed, except to repeat the 
assertion more sharply. 

“ Baffled, but I will find her yet,” muttered 
the man, who was evidently much disappointed. 

“I have seen Jane’s husband,” said Kate 
Mitchell to Susan Slader that evening. '' He 
was standing in the counting room when I went 
through, and I heard him speak. I heard him 
claim her as his wife ; not calling her Jane, but 
calling her the name she accepted when she be- 
came his wife. Of course there was no such 
name on the pay-roll, and he went away, mut- 
tering threats and curses. I wanted to denounce 
him on the spot for the wretch that he is ; but 
as that would have injured Jane, I held my 
peace. How could she marry such a man !” 

“ He was not then what he is now. He was 
careful to conceal his tyrannical disposition, and 
she trusted him too implicitly to doubt his 
kindness and truth. She knew that he drank 
wine in a social way, and she sometimes tasted 
it herself. She had no principle against it, and 
never thought that the moderate use of it was 
either wrong or dangerous. 

“ She was an orphan, unhappily situated, and 
when he professed to love her, and asked her to 


The Home Visit. 


39 


be his wife, she thought her troubles were at an 
end. But it was not long before she found 
that he had married her because he expected 
she would bring him a fortune. He had heard 
in some way that she was entitled to share in a 
large estate ; and when he learned that she was 
a poor girl, with no expectations, he regarded 
her with positive aversion, which he took no 
pains to conceal. 

He abused their child because it tortured 
her, until at last he came so near to killing the 
boy, that he was frightened. When he found 
he had ruined his son’s intellect, he expressed 
some regret for what he had done, but he was 
soon more cruel than ever before ; so that Jane 
was thankful to purchase her freedom from him 
at any cost. I presume he had some new de- 
mand to make upon her, or he would not have 
come here.” 

I am so thankful she got away, but he may 
find her where she is.” 

I hope not. At any rate, the money for 
him and their child will be sent from here as it 
always has been. It will come to Mr. Munson, 
and from him to me. We never could have 
managed her escape without Mr.. Munson’s 
help.” 

‘'He seems to help a great many.” 


40 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ He does, and well he may. He knows what 
it is to need help himself. His father was a 
drunkard, and his mother worked hard to keep 
him decently clothed, and send him to school. 
He does not talk much about it, but he remem- 
bers it. I knew Jane could trust him.” 

In this estimate of George Munson’s char- 
acter, Susan Slader was not mistaken. The 
secret confided to him would be carefully 
guarded, and it was through the kindness of one 
of his friends in the town where “Jane” found 
employment, that she was able to make her re- 
mittances. 

The man answering to the name of Grey- 
land lingered in the city for some weeks, care- 
fully watched by those interested in his move- 
ments, and at last, forced to give up the search 
for his wife, he left for Canada, whence he had 
come. 

“Now, Jane might come back,” said Kate 
Mitchell. “ She could earn more here than 
where she is, and she is needed too.” 

“Yes, but she would not feel safe here, and 
safety is the first consideration with her. Thank 
God, we have nothing to fear. We can stay or 
go, as we please.” 

Kate Mitchell had intended to spend the sum- 
mer at home, but inducements were offered 


The Home Visit. 


41 


which decided her to remain at her post. Her 
health had not suffered, and except that she 
longed for a sight of the dear familiar faces, there 
was no reason why she should not continue to 
work as she had done. 

The long summer days went by. The breath 
of June floated in through the open windows, 
fanning the flushed faces of those who watched 
the whirling spindles and flying shuttles. Ex- 
tra work was done by nearly all, and correspond- 
ingly large wages were earned ; so that Kate was 
more than satisfied with the result of her year s 
labor. 

If ever sister was lovingly welcomed she was 
thus welcomed, although her grandfather waited 
in his room until she went to him. He wished 
to see her there alone, and his wishes were re- 
spected. 

Is it well with you, my child ?” he asked, as 
he turned her face to the light. 

“ It is well with me,” she answered. 

And you are the same girl who left us a lit- 
tle more than a year ago ? ” 

“ The same, only better. I trust I am a Chris- 
tian.” 

This, then, was the secret of the gladness which 
had pervaded her recent letters. The old man 
laid his hand upon her head and said reverently: 


42 


The Ttir7iing of the Wheel. 

“ God bless you, child, and make you a bless- 
ing in your day and generation”; adding, “I 
have doubted whether I did right to help 
you go away, but I hope it has been for the 
best.” 

“ It has been for the best, grandfather.” 

“ I will take your word for it, and may God 
bless you. It won’t do for me to keep you any 
longer now, but we will talk it all over after the 
rest have had their chance. Aunt Dolly has 
been cooking all day for you.” 

After the first greeting, this woman had looked 
at Kate in silence. While others talked, she 
waited for a more convenient opportunity. 

To Orne, his sister, in her becoming dress, 
seemed like a lady. If she had lost in the fresh- 
ness of her complexion, she had gained in the 
expression of her countenance. An indescriba- 
ble change, of which she was herself hardly con- 
scious, had passed over her. 

“ I never was better,” she said, in reply to a 
question which had been asked her. “ I never 
had a better appetite, either,” she added, much 
to the delight of Aunt Dolly, who was loading 
the table with good things. 

Supper was eaten and praised. Then a large 
trunk was opened and its contents distributed, 
each member of the family receiving some ap- 


The Home Visit. 


43 

propriate gift. Placing a roll of bank bills in 
her father’s hand, Kate said softly: 

“There, father, is what I brought you. There 
are one hundred and fifty dollars to pay on the 
mortgage.” 

Mr. Mitchell had never considered himself an 
unkind husband or father, but it was easier for 
him to blame his wife and children than to 
praise them. Had any one outside his family 
given him assistance, his gratitude would at once 
have found expression. Now it cost him an ef- 
fort even to thank his daughter. He did so, 
however, in a manner which fully satisfied her. 
His words were few, but the tears which dimmed 
his eyes testified to the depth of his emotion. 

With a lighter heart than he had ever trodden 
the way before, he went, the next day, to his 
neighbor’s house. I am not sure but he would 
have been happier had he gained by his own la- 
bor the money which he carried ; yet, rejoicing 
as he did, he had little disposition to question 
the manner in which it had come to him. 

As usual, “ Gransir Tolman,” as he was famil- 
iarly called, was friendly and cordial. He was 
in no hurry for the payment of the debt, so long * 
due, yet he was quite willing to receive the money. 

“ I am glad, for your sake, that you can pay 
it,” he said heartily. 


44 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ It is Kate’s money,” was the reply. “ I am 
afraid I never should have made it off the farm. 
I have wondered a good many times why father 
didnff get along as well as you did. Y ou started 
even, didnff you ? ” 

“As near as you can calculate,” replied the 
old man. “ Both of us had some wild land and 
strength to work it. That was about all, except 
the love and good-will of two as good girls as 
ever made a wheel hum. When we got things 
fixed so we could bring the girls home as our 
wives, we felt rich. I know I did, and I guess 
your father did too. We worked hard, and we 
always helped each other.” 

“ I don’t doubt it, but you made property and 
father didn’t.” 

“ Y ou are mistaken there, J ohn. Y our father 
did well.” 

“ Not so well as you. I have heard him talk 
about it a good many times. He says he must have 
spent a dollar sometime he ought to have saved.” 

“ May be he did. I don’t know ; but one 
year he lost a colt he meant to sell for a good 
price, and that rather put him back. To be 
sure, I lost one the first year after we came here. 
But the.e is no use in talking about it, John. 
You took the farm, well cleared, and you took 
your chances with i:.” 


The Home Visit. 


45 


“ I know it, and I don’t see why I haven’t 
gained. But I haven’t. There is my farm, and 
there is my family. Some folks are born to be 
poor and some are born to be rich. That is all 
the way I can account for it.” 

“And do you call yourself a poor man ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then you are mistaken. You aint fore- 
handed, as we say, but you get a good living, 
and make the ends of the year meet. My wife 
and I used to talk things over, and make up 
our minds what to do without and what to 
have. When you can choose between two 
things, it is a good way to calculate, and see 
which is worth the most to you. Sometimes, 
for the sake of saving a few dollars, we would 
do without something we rather needed. But, 
John, my wife always had as much to say about 
it as I did. I never told her it was all mine, 
and she ought to be thankful to me for giving 
her a home. It was just as much hers as mine, 
and she had her say as much as I did. That is 
the way I brought up my boys, too, and if they 
don’t live according to it, they aint as good 
husbands as they ought to be. You have a 
good wife, John, and a nice family of children.” 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the visitor with some em- 
barrassment. 


46 


The Turnmg of the Wheel, 

'‘Folks say Orne is a good blacksmith, boy 
as he is. Will he learn a trade ? ” 

“Not if I can prevent it. I want him to 
stay at home and help carry on the farm, but I 
suppose he will do about as he has a mind to 
when he is twenty-one.” 

“ It won’t be strange if he does. Times are 
changing, and young folks want to make money 
faster than their grandfathers did. So many 
factories starting up make a difference in almost 
everything, and I aint sure but they are going 
to make more difference with women than with 
men. They couldn’t earn so much money any- 
where else, and earning money is going to make 
them independent. Your Kate is a smart girl 
and a good scholar, and I don’t believe she is 
any worse for a year’s work in the mill. She 
has helped herself and helped you.” 

“ I can’t deny that, though I never was in fa- 
vor of factories.” 

“I haven’t anything against them. I don’t 
expect folks to keep on living just as I did 
when I was young. You wouldn’t want to live 
as your father and I did when we first came 
here. It is a help to have somebody ’round 
with a good deal of money to pay out one way 
and another. I know that rich men without 
any conscience oppress the poor, but — thank 


The Ho 7 ne Visit. 47 

God — some men have money and conscience 
both/' 

In this interview several important sugges- 
tions were made which John Mitchell could 
not easily forget. He wondered if his old 
friend had intended to reprove him. He re- 
membered how arbitrarily he had often asserted 
his authority in matters which concerned his 
wife far more than himself, and which should 
have been left entirely to her discretion. He 
began to suspect that he had sometimes de- 
nounced as wrong that of which he had no ade- 
quate knowledge. He had also been unmindful 
of the manifold blessings which crowned his 
life. Mentally acknowledging all this, by the 
time he reached home he was in a mood to ap- 
preciate the happiness pervading the house. 

Even to the rough shanty dignified by the 
name of “ shop " had come a new spirit. The 
glowing fire was like a flame upon the altar of 
incense ; and the workman, a very priest minis- 
tering in the temple. 

Earnest -thoughts flitted through the mind of 
this priest. He looked forward to the time 
when he would hold his destiny in his own 
hands, even as he held the iron, upon which he 
struck blow after blow, until it was fashioned 
to his pleasure. There must be something bet- 


48 The Ttir^iing of the Wheel. 

ter for him than the life he had known, if he 
could but prove himself worthy. 

He was poor, but it was not impossible that 
he might become rich. He was ignorant, .but 
the treasures of knowledge were not beyond 
his reach. Circumstances were against him, but 
he felt himself strong to conquer circumstances. 
He might be over-confident; but he was only 
eighteen years of age, and might well be par- 
doned, if on this particular morning the world 
looked very bright to him. 

He saw his father walk slpwly down the road 
and enter the house. With one exception, the 
whole family were in grandfather s room. Aunt 
Dolly remained in the kitchen, that she might 
from time to time steal away to admire the 
warm woollen shawl she had received from 
Kate, in addition to her wages. 

“ Well, John Mitchell, you are likely to have 
me here another year, if your wife don’t send 
me off,” said the occupant of the kitchen. 

“ She won’t be likely to do that ; and if she 
did, the children would be sure to go for you 
and bring you back. I don’t know how we 
could keep house without you when Kate is 
away.” 

“Well, she says she is going back to the fac- 
tory, and if I was twenty years younger, I 


The Home Visit. 


49 


would go with her. I am thankful there is a 
place where women can earn so much ; and I 
tell you what, John, it is the beginning of more 
comfortable things for them. Men have had 
things pretty much their own way, and if they 
had any property, they left it to their boys. 
That has been the way in this town, and then 
likely the girls were turned out to shift for 
themselves. Sometimes, too, the property went 
for liquor, and if the girls had managed to earn 
and save a dollar, their brothers almost thought 
they had a right to that.” 

“ I am afraid that is true, Dolly.” 

'' I know it is. Didnk my mother and I do 
more towards paying for father s farm than he 
did himself, and then didn’t it all go to my 
brother? To be sure mother was to have her 
support there ; but she was glad to get away 
and live with me on what we could earn. If I 
could have made such wages as Kate can, mother 
might have had everything she wanted.” 

“You made her comfortable.” 

“ I tried to. I did the best I could, and I 
took care of her till she died. It made me feel 
bad when the old farm was sold, but I couldn’t 
buy it, and it mightn’t have done any good if I 
had.” 

“ It is going to be sold again.” 

4 


50 The Turning of the Wheel. 

‘‘To pay another rum bill. I tell you, John 
Mitchell, it is my belief that when women get 
to be independent in money matters they will 
try their hands on the liquor business. I have 
thought it over a good deal lately, and I’m sure 
your children will live to see a new order of 
things. Folks will find out that girls are of 
some account in the world. I don’t complain 
of my lot, though I have had to work hard. I 
don’t have to look after a drunken husband. I 
can take care of myself and thank God for His 
mercies.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE YOUNG BLACKSMITH. 

Thanksgiving was enjoyed at home, and 
then Kate Mitchell, with Susan Slader and two 
sisters, went back to their work. To the young- 
est of the sisters this was a new experience, yet 
the experience was by no means unpleasant. 

The weeks passed quickly. Snow and ice 
disappeared. Windows were thrown wide open, 
and mingled with the din of machinery could 
sometimes be heard the song of birds. 

In country homes the first harbingers of 
spring were gladly welcomed ; although at Mr. 
Mitchell’s it seemed to have been spring through 
all the months others had called winter. Aunt 
Dolly said: 

“It is a wonder how things went on after 
Kate gave the first start. You’d have thought 
they were all expecting a fortune. Orne stud- 
ied all winter long, and the rest didn’t fall much 
behind. There was a first-rate school, and they 
made the most of it. I don’t believe John 
Mitchell set up his authority over his wife once 

( 51 ) 


52 The Turning of the Wheel. 

all winter. It wasn’t his money that paid for 
her handsome dress, any more than it paid for 
my shawl. She had her tea three times a day, 
and Kate paid for it. They were always good 
livers enough, but some way there was a kind 
of easing off all ’round ; and you felt as though 
you could draw a long breath just as often as 
you wanted to.” 

Another would have described the change in 
this family differently, but I doubt if any one 
could have done it more ample justice. 

Kate’s letters were events to be anticipated 
and remembered. Occasionally one was ad- 
dressed to Orne, and of these the entire con- 
tents were known only to himself. They were 
the outpourings of a sister’s warm, loving heart ; 
frank expressions of her hopes and wishes in re- 
gard to the brother dear to her as her own life. 
How much she hoped and prayed for him ; first 
of all that he might be a Christian, while next 
to religion she counted knowledge. 

At home she had not realized that knowledge 
is power, in its fullest sense ; but observation 
soon taught her this truth. Susan Slader, who 
had learned the lesson more slowly, helped her 
to its better appreciation. 

“ I never loved hard study, and I used to think 
it was foolish to spend so much time over books. 


The Young Blacksmith, 53 

but I have found out my mistake. Mere hand- 
work, if well done, is good, but where head and 
hands work together, the best work of all is 
done.’^ 

‘'What are you doing?” asked one in whose 
presence Susan Slader made the remark quoted 
above. 

“ I am doing hand-work, and doing it as well 
as I can,” she answered quickly. “ I intend to 
do everything thoroughly. If I was a man, 
and only shovelled dirt, T would shovel as well 
as I could. I wouldn’t shirk, and I wouldn’t 
spend my strength in complaining either.” 

- She sent occasional messages to Orne Mitch- 
ell, stirring him to new purposes and endeavors. 
As the spring opened he longed to leave the 
farm and apply himself to more congenial work. 
He even proposed it to his father, who dismissed 
the subject by assuring him that he could not 
be spared. 

So, through the summer he arose with the 
sun, and gave himself unsparingly to whatever 
required his attention. Fortunately for him the 
village blacksmith was unable to work for sev- 
eral weeks, and large demands were made upon 
his services, to supply the deficiency thus occa- 
sioned. 

“ That boy of yours ought to be somewhere 


54 The Turning of the Wheel. 

else,” said a farmer, who had come to Mr. Mitch- 
ell’s to have a job done which required consid- 
erable skill. ‘'He is as handy with his hammer 
and tongs as if he had worked with them fifteen 
years. There is no need for him to tell me that 
he don’t like farming.” 

All this troubled Mr. Mitchell, who was half 
tempted to forbid the kindling of another fire in 
the rude forge. But as this, in addition to be- 
ing a great injustice to his son, would subject 
his neighbors to positive inconvenience, the ama- 
teur blacksmith was left to follow his own de- 
vices. One day in midsummer a stranger called, 
asking to have a horse-shoe reset. 

“ I was directed here,” he said. “ A man in 
the village told me I could find some one here 
who would do the job.” 

“ Orne is off on the hill to-day,” responded 
Grandfather Mitchell, who met the stranger at 
the door. “ If you will come in and wait, I 
will blow the horn for him. He isn’t a regular 
blacksmith. He took it up in his own head, 
but I guess he can set a shoe to suit you.” 

The horn sounded the signal agreed upon as 
a call to the shop, and while the stranger waited, 
he engaged in conversation with the old man. 

“You seem to have a good farm here,” he 
remarked. 


The Young Dlacksynith. 55 

“ Yes, sir, it is called a good farm. I thought 
it was good land when I settled on it.” 

This reply gave an opportunity for some 
questions to be asked, and before Orne Mitchell 
made his appearance, the two knew something 
of each other’s experience. One had spent 
much of his life in the very house he called 
home : while the other, who had numbered but 
half the years of his companion, had travelled 
extensively, and thus acquired a large fund of 
general information. 

“You are the blacksmith,” he remarked as 
Orne addressed him. 

“ I am the only one here,” was replied. “What 
would you like done, sir?” 

“ My horse has cast a shoe, and I wish to 
have it reset. Can you do it ?” 

“ I think I can. At any rate, I will try.” 

“All right. I saved the shoe, and I think 
I will go with you, to see the job done. 
Ah ! you have quite a shop here,” added the 
stranger, as a door was thrown open, reveal- 
ing the interior of a smoke -blackened shan- 
ty. “ You have a pretty good supply of tools 
too.” 

“Yes, sir; they are pretty good, considering 
that I made most of them myself.” 

“That alters the case, and proves that you 


56 The Turning of the Wheel. 

have a genius for this kind of work. Are you 
going to stay here all your life ?” 

“ Not unless my life is short. I want to learn 
all I can about iron working. I like it, and I 
don’t like farming.” 

“ You ought to go where they have a found- 
ry, and a big shop, and learn the trade right 
through.” 

“That is what I want to do, and what I 
mean to do when I am my own man.” 

Much more was said, and unwittingly the 
stranger answered a question Orne Mitchell had 
often considered. 

“Just now, you will do well to go to some 
large town, where they are starting up factories. 
There will be good machinists in such a place ; 
and if you keep your eyes open, and give your- 
self entirely to your business, you can learn all 
you need to know. The sooner you go, the 
better too. The sooner a man begins the work 
he calculates to do through life, the better 
chance there is that he will do it well and make 
it profitable. When I was nineteen I bought 
my time of my father, and it was .a good thing 
for both of us.” 

“ But I have nothing to pay,” responded Orne. 

“No more had I,” was replied. “I gave my 
father a note, and he trusted me. When I was 


The Young Blacksmith, 57 

twenty-one I renewed the note, and when I was 
twenty-five I paid it.” 

All this was not lost upon Orne Mitchell. 
The thought of buying his time had before sug- 
gested itself, but he had not dared to cherish it, 
and now, however strongly he might desire to 
do this, he would not mention it until he had 
seen Kate. 

She was coming in the autumn. So she wrote, 
and surprised her family by coming sooner than 
she was expected. She had accomplished her 
object in leaving home. She had earned the 
amount necessary to pay the mortgage, and 
henceforth the Mitchells would be as independ- 
ent as their neighbors. 

“ When I borrowed that money, I never ex- 
pected one of my granddaughters would pay it,” 
said the grandfather, regarding her tenderly. 
‘‘ I am very sorry about it, child.” 

‘‘ I am not sorry,” replied Kate. “ If it had 
not been for the mortgage, I might have stayed 
here all my life, and never known what I could 
do.” 

“ Do you know now what you can do ?” 

“ I know I can support myself and help 
others.” 

“ Y ou won’t go back to the factory, will you ?” 

“ I intend to go back. I could not be con- 


58 The Turning of the Wheel, 

tented to stay here and do as I used to. Aunt 
Dolly can do my work here, while I can earn 
five or six dollars a week besides my board. I 
shall stay at home until I feel like going back.” 

“Well, child, I don’t suppose I ought to say 
anything against it, but I am afraid your going 
has made Orne uneasy. He won’t like to stay 
here and work on the farm.” 

“ He don’t like to stay here now.” 

“ I know it, and I am sorry ; but I don’t know 
as he is to blame.” 

“ Of course he is not, grandfather. Ruel 
likes farming, and he is getting old enough to 
help father.” 

“ Not much, child ; not much. Orne is 
worth three of him. I aint saying anything 
against Ruel. He is a good boy, but Orne 
looks ahead and sees how things are coming 
out. He beats your father for that, and me 
too, the best day I ever saw.” 

The final settlement of the old debt was 
made ; and if there was not a jubilee in the 
Mitchell family, there was something very like 
a feast. Aunt Dolly, who shared in the general 
rejoicing, laid the entire resources of the house 
under tribute. It was even whispered among 
the children that she had “ skimmed every pan 
of milk in the buttery.” 


The Young Blacksmith. 59 

In regard to Kate, two things troubled her. 
The girl had no silk dress, and no money in 
the bank. 

“ You are always thinking of other folks. Do 
you calculate to support the family ? ” she asked. 

“No, Aunt Dolly; I do not, and I could 
not if I would. I want my brothers and sisters 
to have the pleasure of supporting themselves.” 

“ That isn’t the way folks generally look at 
the supporting part. It is reckoned pretty 
tough work.” 

“ But there is pleasure in it.” 

“ So there is. I know that by experience, 
’though sometimes it has seemed as if I had more 
than my share of it to do. Since I came here, 
things have gone along easy, and I don’t feel 
near as old as I did. You see, it is a pretty 
lightsome place since you gave things a lift.” 

A lightsome place indeed. Mrs. Mitchell 
had lost more from her age than had Aunt Dol- 
ly. She was surrounded with comforts, and 
looked forward with glad anticipation for her 
children. She knew Orne would leave home, 
but this did not trouble her. If Kate could do 
so much, he, surely, might do something for his 
own advantage and the advantage of others. 

The brother and sister had many consulta- 
tions, which resulted in the decision of the for- 


6o The Tti7'ning of the Wheel. 

tner to use every possible endeavor to effect 
the change he so much desired. He reasoned 
that should he remain with his father two 
years longer, the time, so far as his future 
was concerned, would be virtually lost. Since 
his interview with the stranger, he had known 
definitely what he wished to do ; and it seem- 
ed to him of the utmost importance that he 
should go with his sister upon her return to the 
mill. 

She volunteered to use her influence with her 
grandfather ; and after some deliberation as to 
the best way of doing this, she asked him how 
much Orne’s services on the farm would be 
worth for the next two years. 

“ I don’t know,” was the reply. Why ? 
What made you ask that question ? ” 

“ Because I wish to know. Please calculate 
as nearly as you can, how much it will be.” 

“ It is likely I could come pretty nigh to it,” 
said the old man. “ Let us see. Orne is 
smarter than most young men your father could 
hire. We must make allowance for that.” 

“Yes, grandfather, make all the allowance 
you ought to, and then tell me.” 

After making several estimates, which, one 
after another, were rejected, he at last named a 
sum he considered reasonable. 


The Young Blacksmith, 6i 

'' Do you suppose father will agree with you ? 
asked Kate. 

4 “ I guess he would, child. He might say I 

had set it pretty high ; but if the boy wanted 
to buy his time, he would think it was worth as 
much as that.” 

Just then, John Mitchell entered the room, 
and the question was submitted to him. 

“ I sha’n’t make that out of Orne in the next 
two years,” he answered quickly. I could hire 
a man to take his place for less than that.” 

“ How much less ? ” asked the father. 

‘H don’t know. I haven’t thought of it. 
What made you ask ? ” 

“ Kate asked me.” 

What in the world made you do that, Kate ? 
What have you and Orne got in your heads 
now ? ” 

As this was said, the speaker looked his 
daughter full in the face ; and she, unused to 
prevarication, answered frankly : 

“ Orne wants to buy his time and go back 
with me. The Slader girls and I are going to 
keep house ; so he can have a home and help us 
a great deal.” 

“ So your plans are all made ? ” 

“ Yes, sir; if you will give your consent.” 

I wonder what I shall be expected to give 


62 


The Turning of the Wheel, 

my consent to next. You went off against my 
advice, and now Orne calculates to set up for 
himself. Things have come to a strange pass, 
when a man’s children think they know so much 
more than he does.” 

“John.” It was John’s father who thus ad- 
dressed him. “ Kate is a good girl, and she has 
helped you more than you could help yourself. 
If Orne has made up his mind not to be a 
farmer, there is no use in keeping him here a 
year or two longer. And, John, children do 
get to know more than their fathers. Orne has 
got a way of looking ahead, different from what 
you or I ever had.” 

John Mitchell had been angry, or he would 
never have spoken so unkindly to his daughter. 
Hastening to make amends for his injustice, he 
said in a deprecating tone : 

“Kate is a good girl. No one knows that 
better than I do. She has taken a load off my 
shoulders that has been growing heavier every 
year. It has been a good thing for us all that 
she went away, but I can’t think of letting 
Orne go. I want him to stay here and take the 
farm when I have done with it.” 

“ But, father, we hope you won’t be done with 
it for a good many )^ears, and Orne ought to be 
doing something for himself long before that.” 


The Young Blacksmith. 63 

I know it, Kate, and I have rather thought 
that when Orne wanted to get married we would 
build a house on the knoll by the spring. He 
could settle down there, where he could look 
after us old folks and keep things right along.” 

‘‘ Where would the money come from to build 
the house, father? It wouldn’t be a good plan 
to run in debt again. There are the other chil- 
dren to be provided for. I don’t complain, but 
I want them to have more than I have had. I 
shall try to help them, but I can’t do it all. The 
farm won’t divide and then yield enough to 
support two families, unless there is different 
management from what there has been. An- 
other thing, father : Orne is determined not to 
be a farmer. He wouldn’t take the gift of the 
farm, free and clear, if he was obliged to live 
on it.” 

“ I know he has got some notions in his head 
that have no business there.” 

This was not very encouraging ; yet Kate 
saw that she had gained a slight advantage, and 
continued : 

“The notions have been in his head ever since 
he was old enough to know what he wanted to 
do. You know, father, that he has always been 
hammering away on a piece of iron.” 

“ Yes,” added the grandfather. “ Six years 


64 The Turning of the Wheel, 

ago he could do more of that kind of tinker- 
ing than ever you or I could. It was born in 
the boy, and no matter what you do, he is bound 
to be a blacksmith or machinist. That is the 
new-fangled name, isn’t it ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ I thought so, but it don’t make any differ- 
ence about names. Orne has got to hammer 
his living out of iron, and there can’t anybody 
prevent it. John, you have thought you had a 
hard time with the old farm. Now, if your 
children want to try new ways of getting a liv- 
ing, and the ways are honest, you ought to help 
them along. Orne is a good boy, and he has 
got a long head on his shoulders, and he will do 
what is right by you too. If I aint mistaken, 
he has got the root of the matter in him. It is 
my belief he is a Christian ; and if he is you can • 
trust him to do his duty.” 

John Mitchell was not a Christian, and this 
remark moved him deeply. He knew there had 
been a great change in his son ; that every 
requirement, however disagreeable, had been 
promptly and pleasantly met. He was aware, 
too, that the younger children felt a new influ- 
ence, and he accepted, without a doubt, the fact 
that Orne was a Christian. 

“ Orne doesn’t expect you to give him his 


The Young Blacksmith, 65 

time,” said Kate, after a short silence. ‘‘ He is 
willing to pay for it.” 

He has nothing to pay, my daughter.” 

He will give you his note.” 

‘‘ But he is a minor. His note is worth noth- 
ing.” 

“ I will sign the note with him, and I think 
you can trust me to pay it if necessary.” 

“ But what if I don’t agree to your plans ? ” 

“ Orne will stay at home and do the best he 
can until he is twenty-one ; but he will be very 
sorry. So shall I, and I think you will be sorry 
too.” 


CHAPTER V. 


HOUSEKEEPING. 

Humming the refrain of an old song, and 
smiling brightly, Susan Slader stood by the win- 
dow of a neatly furnished room, in which not 
an article seemed out of place. A fire burned 
in the stove, diffusing a grateful warmth. The 
centre-table was covered with books, in the 
midst of which stood a large lamp, ready to be 
lighted. But as yet the glow of an early De- 
cember sunset illumined the room ; and this 
glow had not entirely faded when a stage-coach 
rattled down the street and stopped by the win- 
dow at which Susan had been standing. 

“Welcome home, Kate, and you too, Orne,” 
she exclaimed, as she met these friends at the 
door ; and then, after giving directions for the 
disposal of their trunks, she ushered them into 
the parlor, asking: 

“ How do you like it ?” 

“ I like it, and won’t it seem like home ? ” was 
replied. 

“It does seem like home, Kate. We only 
(66) 


Ho use keep ing. 


67 


wanted you and Orne to make our family com- 
plete. .There is a place ready for Orne. I 
asked Mr. Munson about it, and he said he 
would see that Orne had a good place. Lucy 
and Emma are in the mill. Emma is running 
my looms this vacation while I get things a lit- 
tle settled. We have not much extra room 
here ; but, all things considered, it was the best 
I could do. It will make a home for us, and 
when we are richer we will enlarge our bor- 
ders.” 

Orne listened, well pleased, to the report of 
what had been done for him, and resolved to 
prove himself worthy of such kindly interest. 
Later, there were somewhat boisterous greetings 
between Kate Mitchell and the younger Slader 
girls ; after which they gathered around the table 
in the cosy kitchen. 

I suppose, by this time. Aunt Dolly consid- 
ers herself settled for life,” remarked Lucy. 

“Yes, indeed,” answered Kate. “She has 
adopted the whole family, mother and all.” 

“Mother is her especial charge,” added Orne. 
“ She rules the house, as far as work is con- 
cerned ; and she does more than any one would 
think possible. There is no danger of mother 
working too hard as long as Aunt Dolly can 
move.” 


68 The Turning of the Wh-eeL 

Then Kate’s place is well filled,” responded 
Susan. Who takes yours ? ” 

“ Ruel is to do what he can until spring, and 
then father, will hire a man to work through the 
summer and fall.” 

It must be confessed that, despite his sister’s 
presence and the efforts of his friends, Orne 
Mitchell felt a little lonely and somewhat out 
of place in his new position. But the next 
morning, when he was cordially received by 
Mr. Munson and introduced to the agent of 
the corporation, he forgot everything except 
the task he had set himself to do. He was 
a simple country lad ; a boy, he had been call- 
ed at home, but he had in him the making of 
a man ; and the gentleman who talked with 
him had regard to his future. He answered 
frankly such questions as were asked ; describ- 
ing the forge he had constructed and the work 
he had done. 

“ It will be best for you to go into the big 
shop,” said the agent at last. “ I am expecting 
some one from there this morning, and you can 
wait until he comes.” 

With everything new around him, the time 
did not seem long to one accustomed to make 
good use of his eyes. He sat where he could 
look into the mill-yard and watch those who 


Housekeeping, 69 

hurried past, intent upon their work. There 
seemed to be no idlers. 

What could he do among so many busy hands 
and brains ? 

His best. That was all ; and what that best 
might be, only time could determine. 

He was wholly unconscious of the scrutiny 
bestowed upon him, as he half-dreamed, half- 
calculated in regard to the future. But when 
the door opened he looked up to see who would 
enter. For a little he seemed to be disregarded ; 
then his name was called, and he was introduced 
to one of the best machinists at that time in 
New England. Not much was said beyond 
what was necessary to assure him of an oppor- 
tunity to learn what he desired. After this the 
two gentlemen conversed in a low tone, and 
Orne, uncertain whether to go or stay, had de- 
cided upon the former, when he was again told 
to wait. 

‘‘ I am going to the shop soon, and you can 
go with me,” said^the visitor. “You will have 
time to look around, before noon, and the 
sooner you begin your trade, the sooner you 
will be through.” 

Another waiting, another dreaming, and Orne 
Mitchell was fairly committed to his new life. 
Of all he saw in the shop, where every force was 


70 The Turning of the Wheel, 

utilized, and tireless iron arms wrought cease- 
lessly, I will not write. Unwilling to lose even 
a half day, he was at his post in the afternoon, 
listening respectfully to instructions given him 
by an Englishman who had learned his trade in 
the old country. 

“ 'Ave ye a mind to learn ? ” asked the latter. 

''Yes, sir; that is what I am here for,” was 
replied. 

" And 'ave ye a mind to do yer best ? ” 

" Yes, sir, I always mean to do my best.” 

"Then ye’ll find me patient with yer blunders; 
but if ye’re like some lads. I’ll give ye plenty of 
hard words.” 

There was a merry twinkle in the eyes of the 
speaker, as this was said, and without further 
remark he turned away. 

When Orne reached home that evening, he 
was tired. His head ached and his brain was 
confused ; yet he experienced no feeling of home- 
sickness. In a quiet talk with his sister, he re- 
counted the events of the day and gave expres- 
sion to the thoughts these events had suggested. 

" I shall earn but little at present,” he said. 

" I knew your wages would be small,” replied 
Kate. " My trade was quickly learned, but it 
seems to me you will always have something 
new to learn.” 


Housekeeping. 


71 


So it seems to me. When I was in the 
foundry, this morning, I thought I should like 
to begin with the ore as it comes from the 
ground and go through all the processes, until it 
is made into something that can be used. Our 
boss, as the boys call him, is an Englishman, and 
I guess he knows the whole story. What do you 
suppose they are doing at home to-night ? ” asked 
Orne after a short silence. 

Talking about us,” was replied. “ Father has 
missed you all day, and this evening he is think- 
ing what a pity it is that you don’t like farming.” 

I presume he is thinking just that. He 
really thinks I ought to be a farmer, and but for 
you, I should have been obliged to stay at home 
two years longer.” 

‘‘ And then ? ” 

“ I suppose I should go into some blacksmith’s 
shop and learn what I could ; and then settle 
down to shoe horses and oxen ; set wagon and 
cart tires, and tinker whatever came to hand. 
It isn’t likely I should have started off as far as 
here, and I couldn’t find a big shop very near 
home. It takes a pile of money to set up such 
a shop and foundry as there is here. One man 
couldn’t do it, unless he was very rich and risked 
all he had on one venture. No more could one 
man build such large factories.” 


72 The Turning of the Wheel. 

'' I am thankful the factories were built,” 
said Kate, thinking more of the results of invest- 
ment than of its philosophy. 

“ So am I, though it seemed to me the strangest 
thing in the world that you wanted to come here.” 

“ My coming was a good thing, Orne.” 

“ So it was. It pulled us out of the old ruts, 
and now there is a chance for the Mitchells to 
be forehanded, as grandfather says. The farm 
won’t run in debt again if I can help it ; and if 
I live, I mean to see the day when I am as well 
off as any one of the Tolmans. You are about 
as well off as Jane.” 

“ Perhaps she would not think so, but I have 
no wish to change places with her, although Jane 
is a good girl.” 

“ The Tolmans are all good, and they have 
always been good friends to us. I have heard 
grandfather say there never was a word of 
trouble between the families. I like them all ; 
but to tell the truth, I heard so much about the 
mortgage, that it was hard for me not to blame 
them for it. I can’t remember that I ever asked 
father for a cent of money, when he didn’t tell 
me he was in debt. I wish I knew how grand- 
father began to run behindhand, while Gransir 
Tolman more than held his own. That is where 
the difference came in.” 


Housekeep{?ig. 


73 


“ I suppose, sometime, grandfather spent more 
than he made, and perhaps he couldn’t help it.” 

“ Perhaps so, but such spending gives a start 
the wrong way. The minute a man owes more 
than he can pay, he is poor.” 

Grandfather could have raised the money to 
pay the mortgage, and so could father, but they 
couldn’t do it without making more of a sacri- 
fice than they thought best. A farmer can’t 
always tell what he is able to do. His crops 
may turn out bad, or some of his stock die ; so 
there is a loss he didn’t calculate on.” 

Yes, Kate, I know all that, but he ought to 
have something to fall back upon, when he is 
sick, or something unexpected happens.” 

I hope you will remember that, Orne.” 

“ I hope I shall. I should think I had lessons 
enough. But, after all, making money is not 
all there is to be done in the world. I want 
what money will buy, more than I want the 
money itself.” 

The greatest blessings of all, we can have 
without money and without price. The poorest 
in this world’s goods are richer with these than 
any one can possibly be without them.” 

“ Yes,” replied Orne, musingly ; and then the 
brother and sister were silent, until called to join 
the group in the parlor. 


74 The Turning of the Wheel. 

In “ grandfather’s room ” the probable condi- 
tion of “the children ” was discussed, with the 
changes their absence would effect. 

“ I am not sure I should let Orne go, if it was 
to do over again,” said John Mitchell to his 
father. “ I miss him more than I expected to. 
I didn’t know before how much I depended on 
him. He would make a better farmer than I 
am, but there is no use in looking back. He 
was bound to go, and he feels better than he 
would if I had kept him till he had a right to 
without asking me. It made me ashamed 
to have Kate talk about signing a note with 
him. She paid for his time beforehand.” 

“Yes, John, she did, and Orne will do what 
is right by you. If you ever need help you will 
get it. That is what Gransir Tolman says, and 
his judgment is good. He told me that he is 
expecting Richard next spring. It is a good 
many years since Richard was here. It is ten 
years ago he was here, isn’t it ? ” 

“Ten years ago last summer.” 

“ They say he has prospered, and got to be 
worth ten times as much as his father ever 
was.” 

“ I have heard so. He had help when he 
started.” 

“So did you have help, John. You started 


Housekeeping. 75 

with twenty times as much as I had when I be- 
gan here.” 

“ I know it, father, and I am ashamed of my- 
self for ever complaining. The truth is, I 
haven’t done as I ought to. Seeing others bet- 
ter off than I have been, made me cross and un- 
reasonable, and that has made everything drag, 
indoors and out.” 

“I am glad you see it, John. It has made 
me feel bad a good many times, but it was of 
no use for me to say much. You have got a 
good wife, John. Bessie Dean might have had 
her pick of the young men 'round here.” 

As there was no reply to this remark. Grand- 
father Mitchell continued : 

It always seemed to me a wicked thing for 
anybody to have a spite against folks because 
they had the most money. I don’t know as I 
ever had such a feeling. I have wondered why 
things should be just as they are ; but it is likely, 
after all, that there is more equal chance than 
there looks to be. Then there is another thing : 
rich folks aint always the happiest. They have 
their trials and troubles the same as poor folks.” 

“ I know it, father, and I have been thinking 
lately that I haven’t done as I ought to in a 
good many things. I have thought too much 
of this world and not enough of another. My 


76 The Turning of the Wheel. 

children have done better than I have. I never 
shall try to dictate to Kate or Orne again. 
There was a chance for them and they improved 
it. There was a chance for me to be a good 
man all these years, but I held back. My chil- 
dren are Christians before me.” 

'' I wish you were a Christian, John.” 

'' I wish I was, father. I wish so with all my 
heart.” 

Two months later Kate and Orne Mitchell 
received a letter containing the joyful intelli- 
gence that their father was at last mindful of his 
obligations to God, and would soon make a pub- 
lic profession of his faith in Christ as his Saviour. 
This was glad news, read again and again with 
many expressions of gratitude. 

'' Everything is going right at home,” said 
Kate. 

“ And everything is going right, here, so far 
as we are concerned,” replied Orne. “ I wish 
father could know how much I enjoy my whole 
life here.” 

“ I think we all enjoy life about as well as we 
can,” rejoined Susan Slader, who had overheard 
Orne’s last remark. “ We earn our enjoyment 
too. For my part I don’t envy those who have 
nothing to do.” 

'' Do you think there are many such ? ” 


Ho risekeeping. 


77 


I suppose there are some young people, with 
rich fathers, who find everything ready to their 
hand without making any exertion for it. I 
suppose, too, there are some older people as well 
off ; or I don’t know but I should say as badly 
off. I think work is a good thing for us all ; 
and, Orne Mitchell, with your head and hands 
and health, you have just as good a chance to 
make somebody of yourself as you need to have.” 

How is it with you, Susan ? ” 

1 have the same chance,” she replied. “ If 
I wanted to be a machinist I would learn the 
trade and work at it, but you see I don’t.” 

“ I never heard of a woman learning the 
machinist’s trade.” 

“ Neither did I ; but if you and I live many 
years we shall see women working at trades 
people have always thought belonged to men. 
There was a time when nobody ever heard of 
girls working in a cotton-mill in this country.” 

“ But there was a call for women to do this 
work.” 

And if I could do first-class machinist work 
there might be a call for me somewhere ; but as 
things are, I am quite willing that you should 
be the machinist of the family.” 

‘‘In that we are agreed, and the boss says I 
am likely to turn out a good workman.” 


78 The Turning of the Wheel, 

“ Does he ever find fault with you ?” 

“Not often; and when he does, he never 
scolds. Some of the boys come in for a full 
share, but they deserve it. They shirk all they 
can, and if they ever know anything about the 
trade, it will be because they can’t help it. 
They complain of being ordered ’round. They 
would like to give off the orders and have some- 
body else do the work.” 

“ A precious set of tyrants such shirks would 
make. For my part I am not troubled with 
orders. I know what I am expected to do, and 
what I am paid for doing. I am working for 
my own benefit ; and if somebody else makes 
money out of my work I have no fault to find 
on that account.” 

“The corporation makes money.” 

“ I hope so. The way I look at it, there has 
been a fair exchange.” 

“ The corporation may have taken the lion’s 
share,” remarked Orne. 

“ It is likely they take all they ought to,” was 
replied. “ If I had taken the risk of starting up 
a new business and keeping it running, I should 
think the profits belonged to me. People want 
to get their work done as cheaply as they can. 
Farmers never pay their help more than they 
are obliged to ; and on the other hand, the help 


Hotisekeepmg. 79 

get all they can. That is the way the world 
over, I suppose.” 

This very question of work and wages was 
forced upon the consideration of Mr. Mitchell. 
In the spring, when he wished to engage a man 
to help him on his farm, he found that he would 
be obliged to pay higher wages than he had an- 
ticipated ; and after a few weeks, he found that 
Orne’s place was not made good. Yet he had 
done the best he could, under the circumstances ; 
and in the autumn, when he received from his 
son an amount sufficient to meet the expendi- 
ture, his trouble was at an end. There had been 
an exchange, in which no one had suffered. 

Of course, you earned the money,” said her 
father, when Kate paid to him the sum of the 
wages then due. 

“ I earned part of it,” she replied. Orne 
has done all he could, and he gave me his note 
for what I have paid.” 

“ Then you are not afraid to trust him ? ” 

‘'No, sir.” 

“Well, I don’t think he will cheat you. But 
you ought not to spend so much money on us 
here at home. I am coming out a little ahead 
this year, and it makes a new man of me. We 
have started right as to property, and I mean to 
keep out of debt, if I can’t do any more. Ruel 


8o 


The Turning of the Wheel. 

is coming on to be a good farmer. So I think 
1 can keep one of my boys with me ; and if I 
can, I shall be satisfied. I hope Orne is doing 
well every way.” 

“ He is, father. In the shop they call him 
* deacon,’ he is so earnest and honest. A great 
many men and boys who work in the shop 
spend their money for tobacco and liquor ; but 
he never tastes a drop of liquor ; and as for to- 
bacco, he says he tried that once, here at home, 
and he shall never try it again.” 

I am glad of it. I know he wouldn’t use 
liquor, and if he never learns to use tobacco, he 
will never want it. It is a bad habit, anyway, 
and it costs a good deal too. What I have 
spent for tobacco would have bought a good 
many things for the house, and I should have 
been better off without it. I haven’t used 
any for six months, and if I can live six 
months without it, I can live so the rest of my 
life. 

'' What do you think of my coming down 
and making you a visit, when it comes good 
sleighing?” asked the father, abruptly changing 
the conversation. There will be some things to 
sell off the farm, and I don’t know of any 
reason to hinder my carrying them to market 
myself. What do you think about it?” 


House keep ing. 


8i 


“ I think we should all be glad of a visit from 
you. Orne would be delighted to see you. He 
wanted to come with me this fall, but he 
thought he couldn’t afford it. We are coming 
together next summer.” 


6 


CHAPTER VI. 


GRAN SIR TO LMAN. 

Early in January Mr. MitcheH’s plan for 
visiting his children was carried into effect. He 
spent two days in the factory city ; during 
which he sold his produce to good advantage, 
and learned something of the resources of the 
place. 

To say that he was surprised at what he saw 
would be saying very little. He was utterly 
unable to comprehend it. The machinery fas- 
cinated him. It seemed to him instinct with 
life ; and he marvelled that the mind of man 
could ever have achieved such a conquest over 
matter. 

“ The men who could invent all this were 
made up different from what I am,” he said to 
Orne, as they were watching the play of an up- 
right shaft, upon the regular motion of which 
so much depended. “ I don’t understand it. 
Do you ? ” 

“ I understand how the force is applied,” 
Orne answered. 

(82) 


Gransir Tolman, 


83 


Well, I don’t, and I don’t know as it makes 
any difference whether I do or not. I can farm 
just as well without knowing, and I am getting 
to think that everybody wasn’t made to do the 
same thing. It took money to set this going.” 

“Yes, sir, and it takes money to keep it 
going. There is an immense water-power, too, 
that has not been used yet. There will be more 
mills built ; then there will be more help needed, 
and the farmers will have a better market for 
what they can raise. So you see it will help 
everything.” 

“ And the more people have, the more they 
want ; so I don’t know as there is any great 
gain after all.” 

“There is again in comfort and intelligence, 
father.” 

“ Perhaps so. I don’t doubt it looks so to 
you, and I allow you can see some things further 
than I can.” 

After this visit, short as it was, John Mitchell’s 
views of life were somewhat enlarged. He was 
thoroughly proud of his children, and in a con- 
versation with Mrs. Slader, he told her they 
were “as comfortable as need be.” 

“ Susan rather takes the lead,” he said in 
answer to a question asked by her mother. 
“But then they all take hold together and share 


84 The Turning of the Wheel. 

the expense. There is a woman living next 
house to them who does what work they want 
done, so they don’t have any trouble about that. 

I don’t know but they will get the whole of my 
, family there before they get through. My Mary 
wants to go.” 

“ My Ruth says she is going the next time 
Susan comes home. She wants to earn money, 
so she can go to school.” 

“If she goes, Susan will make it as easy for 
her as she can.” 

“ She will make it easy, if anybody can. She 
has a high temper when it is up, but there is no 
better girl than she is. Her father used to say, 
you always knew what to depend on with 
her.” 

All through the winter and early spring the 
memory of this visit was a constant pleasure ; 
and it was observable, not only in his family, but 
elsewhere, that John Mitchell looked on the 
bright side of things. Comparing his pros- 
pects with those of William Tolman, who lived 
on the homestead, the balance did not seem very 
much against him. He could meet the old 
gentleman with no feeling of envy or sense of 
wrong. He could hear the wealth of his friend 
Richard estimated without being made unhappy 
thereby. A twelvemonth before, it would have 


Gransir Tob7tan. 


85 


been different, and he was glad that Richard had 
not come as was expected. 

, Kate would spend a part of the summer at 
home. She could well afford to do so, and the 
whole family desired her presence. She was to 
be at home three months ; during the last of 
which Orne would be with her. 

“You don’t know how I want to see the 
boy,” said her grandfather, when she made this 
announcement. “ He has come of age since he 
went away.” 

“Yes, sir; and he has changed a great deal 
since you saw him.” 

“ That is what your father said. He said, 
too, that he had grown good-looking. Not 
handsome ” 

“ I think Orne is handsome,” interrupted Kate 
quickly. “ He is called so, and everybody says 
he looks good. He is good too. He is just 
what he professes to be.” 

“ I hope so, child. I don’t know how to wait 
till September, to see him. Neighbor Tolman 
says Richard is coming in August, with his wife 
and children, so there vvill be company all ’round.” 

Happy days were these when Kate Mitchell 
sung in the old kitchen, or roamed through field 
and forest, in search of the delicious berries 
which waited to be gathered. Aunt Dolly re- 


86 The Ttirning of the Wheel, 

fused all assistance from her, but the children 
made large demands upon her time. Her 
mother consulted her upon every occasion, and 
as one result of these consultations, some addi- 
tions were made to the conveniences of the 
house. The neighbors said they were “ fixing 
up,” and the whole farm seemed to feel a new 
influence. 

“ I am glad to see you, and I am glad that 
you have prospered,” said John Mitchell to 
Richard Tolman after cordial greetings had been 
exchanged. 

“ And I am glad to see you, and know that 
you are prospering,” was replied. “ When I 
came by your place, I noticed you had been 
making some improvements.” 

“We are trying to do a little, although we 
can’t do much at a time. Farming isn’t a very 
money-making business. I don’t suppose you 
have ever been sorry you didn’t take up with your 
father’s offer and settle down on the old farm.” 

“No, I never have. I have run some risks 
I shouldn’t have run as a farmer, and I have had 
a good many anxieties with my business ; but I 
thought it was best to go away, and I have never 
been sorry that I did. William has done as well 
for father as I should.” 

“You have made a good deal of money.” 


Gransir Tolman. 


87 


That depends on how you look at it. Com- 
pared with some, I have made a good deal. 
Compared with others, it doesn’t seem much. I 
should be called rich, if I lived here ; but in my 
vicinity there are men worth ten times as much 
as I am ; and beside them, I am only in comfort- 
able circumstances.” 

“ Strange how much difference there is about 
such things. And I wonder if, after all, people 
who have so much money are any better or 
happier for it.” 

“ The richest people are not the happiest, 
John. But money is a good thing, if used prop- 
erly. It is pleasant for a man to feel that he has 
something to fall back upon. A man who 
owns a farm can always feel that.” 

“ Do you own a farm, Richard ? ” 

“ I don’t call it a farm, ’though I own a hun- 
dred acres of land on both sides of the stream 
my saw-mill stands on. It gives me a good 
crop of hay every year, but I don’t calculate on 
making much money from it.” 

“ Either of your boys going to follow your 
business ? ” 

I can’t tell about that yet. Percy may. He 
takes an interest in trees and lumber, but How- 
ard cares only for books. Father says your 
oldest son is a natural machinist.” 


88 


The Turning of the Wheel. 

‘‘ That is what people call him. When I went 
down to see him, last winter, the man who has 
charge of things \there he works said he was 
p-oino; to make a first-rate workman. He is 
always studying too ; calculating about some- 
thing or other.” 

“ I am glad to hear so good a report of him, 
and I shall be glad to see him.” 

I want you to see him. Your boys may be 
smarter than he is, but I am not ashamed of 
him anywhere.” 

Mr. Tolman’s boys might or might not be 
smarter than Orne Mitchell. They were cer- 
tainly very different. Howard, the elder, was a 
hard student and fine scholar ; while Percy was 
an active, bustling boy, who had decided opin- 
ions in regard to every subject discussed in his 
presence. He was fifteen years of age, and 
knew the capacity of a tree for lumber as well 
as did his father. A good-natured, rollicking 
fellow ; when he entered the house, there seemed 
to have been some door left ajar, through which 
the northwest wind found admittance. 

Yet for all this, he was one of the bes.t sons 
and brothers in the world. His sisters, Jennie 
and Fannie, were sure to have their wants con- 
sidered when he appeared. Howard was unwill- 
ing to be disturbed. He had problems to solve 


Gransir Tohnan, 


8q 


and theories to test, and he must be quiet. But 
Percy’s problems were solved while feet and 
hands were active ; and his theories were tested 
by the exercise of muscular strength. 

‘‘ Well, my boys, how do you like the old 
home ” asked their grandfather, coming unex- 
pectedly upon them, as they sat in the shade of 
a wide-spreading elm. 

I like it wholly and altogether,” replied 
Percy, springing to his feet, while Howard arose 
more deliberately. “ I wish I could see it as it 
was when you first came here.” 

“ There were woods then, as far as you could see 
on all sides. It was a new country, and we had 
to live pretty much as we could for a few years. 
You wouldn’t like that, would you, Howard?” 

“ I don’t think I should,” was the frank reply. 
'‘You didn’t have many books then.” 

" No, my boy, we didn’t ; and if we had, I 
don’t know what we should have done with 
them. We didn’t have much time to read. We 
had a Bible, an Almanac, ‘ Baxter’s Saints’ Rest,’ 
and an old ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ that was pretty 
much worn out before it came to us. After your 
father and the other children were old enough 
to go to school, they had what books they 
needed to study. We had a catechism too, and 
a New England Primer.” 


90 The Turning of the WheeL 

“ Well, grandfather, I think this is a fine place 
now, but I would rather be my father’s son, than 
take my father’s place when he was a boy,” said 
Howard respectfully. 

“ I don’t doubt but what you would, and I 
don’t blame you for feeling so,” replied the old 
man. “Your father is better off than I was. 
He can afford to do more for his children than 
I could for mine. Then times are different. I 
have seen a good many changes ; but if you live 
to be as old as I am, you will see a good many 
more than I have.” 

“And perhaps leave off where you be- 
gan,” added Percy. “ When I was in the 
stage, I heard a gentleman say that men were 
very apt to leave off where their grandfathers 
began.” 

“ I have heard that said a good many times. 
What do you think about it, Howard ? ” 

“ I think there is no need of it.” 

“ Not the least in the world, unless God sends 
some special calamity upon them. The way I 
account for it is, that they get extravagant no- 
tions, and depend so much on money they don’t 
know the worth of, that they expect it will 
always last. They are apt to feel above work, 
and an idle man has got to kill time in some 
way. So he is likely to use tobacco and liquor. 


Granstr Tolman. 


91 

and when a man begins with liquor, there is no 
telling where he is going to stop.” 

“ There is no danger of our beginning with 
it,” said Percy. “ Mother would think we were 
ruined, soul and body, if we should taste of 
liquor ; and she thinks almost as bad of tobacco. 
She is the strongest temperance woman any- 
where about us. Once, when father, was away 
for a few weeks, a man opened a rum-shop about 
a mile and a half from our mill. Of course, he 
sold other things besides rum, and it was not 
long before he managed to start up quite a 
trade. 

“The wife of one of our workmen came to 
mother about it, and in less than an hour they 
started together for the new store. If father 
had been at home, he would have settled it ; but 
mother didn’t wait for him. The storekeeper 
promised not to sell any more liquor, and he kept 
his word. Father won’t hire a man who uses 
liquor. As for tobacco, the men do as they 
please, but the boys in the place don’t touch it. 
A boy who should try it would find himself in 
disgrace.” 

“ Percy manages that,” remarked Howard. 

“ Of course I do, and you can’t find a cleaner 
set of boys anywhere. Grandfather, did you 
ever use tobacco ? ” 


92 The Turnmg of the WheeL 

I used it a while, when I was a young man, but 
your grandma’am didn’t like it, and I gave it up 
to please her. She looked out for her boys too.” 

“ She was in the right of it.” 

“ She was in the right of everything. At any 
rate, I thought so. I always trusted her judg- 
ment.” 

The conversation was prolonged until Gran- 
sir Tolman turned to meet his son, who was 
coming from the orchard with a basket of early 
apples, when he said : 

“ The farm is going to yield good crops this 
year. William is a good farmer. He keeps 
the land in good heart. It takes more to do 
that than it used to. John Mitchell hasn’t been 
quite careful enough about that, but he is doing 
better this year or two. Orne gave him some 
advice, and Ruel is a born farmer. There is a 
smart family of children, and Kate set them an 
example they are likely to follow.” 

“ She is a fine-looking girl.” 

“And as good as she is good-looking. She 
looks some as her mother used to, ’though she 
shows that she has more spirit. Bessie gave up 
too easy and didn’t stand for her rights as much 
as she ought to. I have felt bad for her a good 
many times, but there has been a change. John 
felt the old mortgage to be a terrible burden. 


Gransir Tolman. 


93 


and since Kate paid it he has been different. I 
want you to see Orne, and I am' glad he is com- 
ing while you are here. I guess we must have 
a kind of a celebration when your brothers and 
sisters all get here.” 

Orne Mitchell had been from home nearly 
two years, and he was much changed. I think 
few would have looked upon him without call- 
ing him handsome. His tall, commanding fig- 
ure was well-nigh faultless. His hands were 
large — too large to please an over-fastidious 
taste, but they were firmly knit and well pro- 
portioned. His eyes had always shone with a 
strong, clear light ; now the light was stronger 
and clearer than ever before. 

He had a kind word and fond caress for each 
of the children, a warm embrace for his mother, 
and a hearty greeting for his father. 

Where is grandfather ? ” he asked a little 
anxiously. 

*Hn his room, where he wishes to see you 
alone,” replied Kate. 

Yes,” chimed in Aunt Dolly. Your grand- 
father don’t want anybody else ’round till he has 
made up his mind about you.” 

“ I am glad you have come. I have wanted 
to see you,” said the old man, as Orne stood be- 
side him, clasping his trembling hand. 


94 The Turning of the Wheel, 

‘‘ I am very glad to see you,” was the hearty 
response. 

‘‘ Is it well with you, my boy ? ” 

The same question he had asked Kate, and 
he received the same answer : 

“ It is well with me.” 

Soul and body, my boy ? Do you come 
back to us the same as you went away ? ” 

“ In many respects I come back better, and I 
trust I am in no respect worse.” 

These questions and answers comprehended 
all Grandfather Mitchell wished to know of the 
moral well-being of his grandson. 

It was not until late in the evening that this 
brother found opportunity for a quiet talk with 
his sister Kate ; and then each had so much to 
say they might have talked the entire night had 
not their father reminded them that there was 
another day to come. 

Orne brought of his own earnings sufecient 
to pay the wages of “ the hired man ” for the 
season. To his mother he brought several arti- 
cles of dress, selected by Susan Slader ; while 
each child received some token of remembrance ; 
and Aunt Dolly was made happy by the gift of 
a fine linen handkerchief — just what she wanted 
to “ carry to meeting.” 

Mr. Richard Tolman was not disappointed in 


Gransir Tolman. 


95 


the looks and appearance of Orne Mitchell ; 
who impressed him as a young man of superior 
ability. Intending to make merely an after- 
noon call, with his boys, he was so cordially in- 
vited to tea, that he accepted the invitation, 
when Aunt Dolly took care that there should 
be no lack either in quality or quantity. She 
was anxious that the family should appear at 
their best ; especially was she anxious that Mrs. 
Mitchell should look “young and girlish”; and 
her suggestions having been followed, she was 
more than satisfied with the result. 

Grandfather Mitchell had many questions to 
ask of one whom he had known so well as a boy, 
and the two men, so nearly of an age, indulged 
in reminiscences of the past, until some remark 
turned attention to present interests. The rela- 
tions of labor and capital were discussed in a 
straightforward way. Mr. Mitchell inclined to 
doubt if the new order of things would prove a 
benefit to the country at large. 

It seems to me that poor people won’t be 
so independent as they are now,” he said. 

“They can earn more money,” responded 
Orne. 

“ And spend more,” added his father. “ Rich- 
ard, what do you think ? Are people better off 
for having more money, if they spend it all ? ” 


96 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ That depends upon what they spend it for. 
I have more money than my father had. I 
spend more for my family than he spent for his, 
and we are all the gainers by it. In some ways 
money will go further than it used to. There 
is less hard work to be done just to live in our 
homes ; and there is more done to make our 
homes pleasant. Besides, the fact of earning 
money does not make it necessary that all 
should be spent. How is it, Orne : do the men 
who work with you save much of their wages ? 

“ Some do. Perhaps more than half of them 
do ; but there are others who spend so much for 
liquor and tobacco they hardly keep out of debt. 
There is more temptation to do that in a large 
place than in a small town like this ; but there 
have been men on our back farms who ruined 
themselves with tobacco and liquor.” 

“ Exactly ; and in my opinion there is the 
greatest danger to the country. So long as a 
man has health and steers clear of these abomi- 
nations, he is reasonably sure of being able to 
earn a good living for himself and those depend- 
ent upon him.” 

“You don’t class tobacco with liquor, do you, 
Richard ?” 

“ I don’t think it is as bad, but it is bad 
enough ; and its use is an evil which will in- 


Gransir Tolman, 


97 


crease, unless there is a strong influence brought 
to bear against it. As for intoxicating liquor, 
in any of its forms, it is an unmitigated curse ; 
and, in my opinion, the man who sells it to be 
used as a beverage ought to be treated as a 
criminal.” 

There are those in every community willing 
to do it, and taking especial pains to make their 
places of business attractive to young men and 
boys, whom they intend to ruin as a means of 
gain to themselves. I have seen some of the 
boys who work in our big shop drawn into such 
places almost in spite of themselves. In two 
instances I have managed to save them ; but 
they were only two of many.” 

“Then, Orne, you can’t think it is a very 
good place for boys and young men,” remarked 
his father. 

“It is a good place for all who are trying to 
do their best and make the most of themselves. 
It needs some decision of character to hold on 
steady to the end, but that is needed every- 
where ; and I am thankful I had the privilege 
of trying my fortune in the city of spindles.” 

“ I don’t suppose Orne would stay here and 
work with me three years if I would give him 
the farm.” 

“ No, sir; I would not. When I have thor- 
7 


98 The Turning of the Wheel. 

oughly learned my trade I can earn a living 
anywhere.” 

“ Indeed you can,” said Mr.Tolman. “ Come 
out our way and start a shop on your own ac- 
count. There will be a great demand for farm- 
ing tools of all kinds. The resources of the 
country will develop rapidly. One large indus- 
try makes way for another. There will be a 
better market for the produce of our farms, and 
there will be more money in circulation. Twen- 
ty-five years from now the rich men of to-day 
will be considered only comfortable livers.” 

“And won’t there be more very poor people 
in proportion to the number of inhabitants?” 

“I don’t see why there should be, John. 
There will be more comfort and more luxury ; 
more chances to earn money, and more chances 
to gain great wealth ; but then, as now, a man’s 
success in life will depend more upon himself 
than upon his surroundings.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


MRS. GREYLAND. 

No remittance had been received from Jane 
for three months ; and nothing was heard from 
her, except that she had gone beyond the knovvd- 
edge of Mr. Munson’s friend. She had left her 
work abruptly ; thanked him for his kindness, 
and promised to see him again, if possible. 

Her husband, although sometimes missed for 
a few days, might generally be seen at the street 
corners, where he could easily scan the faces of 
all who passed by. 

He is still looking for his wife,” said Orne 
Mitchell, who regarded him with the utmost ab- 
horrence. “ Lately he is not so well dressed ; 
and judging from appearances, he is not so well 
supplied with money. Young, who works be- 
side me, noticed him as we came along, this 
noon, and told me he was in Baldwin’s saloon 
for a while.” 

“The Young you persuaded to sign the^ 
pledge ? ” 

“ Yes, and he has kept it too. He says Grey- 

(99) 


lOO The Turning of the Wheel. 

land would sell liquor whether anybody wanted 
it or not. He would sing, joke, and tell stories, 
all the time mixing drinks and offering them 
’round in a way they couldn’t be refused ; and 
then he would collect pay for them in the same 
way. 

“Young says he is a good scholar, too, and 
can appear like a gentleman. As for his hon- 
esty, that is not so sure. Baldwin accused him 
of taking money from the drawer and Greyland 
left. Since then Young thinks he has sold 
liquor from flasks carried in his pockets.” 

“ Do you suppose he has ever done an honest 
day’s work since he came here ? ” 

“ I presume not, but he may be driven to 
work. If I could decide his fate, he would work 
or starve.” 

“He can open a rum-shop on his own ac- 
count.” 

“ I know he can, and if he cannot depend upon 
his wife, he probably will. More will be the 
pity, too, for our shop boys.” 

“If he does that, show him up, Orne. Tell 
the boys what a villain he is.” 

“I have told Young already, and he will 
spread the news. It is the strangest thing that 
men will drink liquor as they,do, when they 
know it will ruin them. One of the best work- 


Mrs. Grey land. loi 

men in the shop was discharged to-day, for spoil- 
ing a piece of work when he was under the influ- 
ence of liquor. He would have been discharged 
long ago if it wasn’t so hard to fill his place.” 

“ Has he a family ? ” 

“ Yes, he has a wife and five children. It will 
go hard with them ; and if he is idle, he will 
drink all the more.” 

“ But if he earns nothing ? ” 

“ He will find a way to buy liquor, even if his 
children earn the money. If I was boss of the 
shop, I should try to strike at the root of the 
matter. I would do what I could to stop rum- 
selling as well as rum-drinking. I would never 
hire a man who was not a thorough-going tem- 
perance man. I would have the best of a man 
or nothing; and if I ever have any influence 
anywhere, I will look out for the rum-shops the 
first thing. I have seen a good deal of their 
evil work, and I have heard a good deal more. 
They are only evil, and that continually.” 

Soon after this conversation, '‘Jane” present- 
ed herself to the overseer of the room where 
she had formerly worked, and asked for employ- 
ment. 

“ I cannot do as I used to, but I hope to 
grow stronger, and I can work better here than 

an v where else.” 

✓ 


102 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

“ There will always be work for you here, and 
we shall be glad to have you back,” was replied. 

‘‘ Thank you ; I will do my best,” she answer- 
ed and trusted herself to say no more. 

Susan Slader uttered an exclamation of sur- 
prise as “Jane” stood before her, thinner, paler, 
and sadder, yet the very same woman toward 
whom her thoughts so often turned. 

“ I have come back to work near you, until I 
can work no longer,” said this woman, pressing 
her hand to her side, as a sharp pain almost 
stopped her breath. 

“You are not able to work. Have you been 
sick ? ” was responded quickly. 

“ I have been heart-sick and I am alone in the 
world,” she answered. “My boy is dead, and 
my heart is broken.” 

“ Dead ! ” repeated vSusan Slader, wondering 
even then that the mother did not rejoice at his 
release from suffering. 

“ Where will you board ? What will you 
do ? ” was asked in the next breath. 

“ I don’t know. I have not thought. I was 
so anxious to come back here, that I made no 
plans. I wish I could be near you. I am always 
stronger when I am with you.” 

“ You must go home with me this evening, 
and after that we will see what can be done.” 


Mrs, Grey land. 


103 


Thankful that any one would relieve her of 
the responsibility of caring for herself for the 
night, Mrs. Greyland, as she then wished to be 
called, accompanied her friend home, where she 
was cordially welcomed and made comfortable. 

“ I will tell you all you care to know when I 
am rested,” she said hoarsely. “ I have money 
to pay my expenses, and if you will let me stay 
here until I can hire a room, I shall keep house 
for myself. I shall be better in the morning.” 

The next morning, however, she was unable 
to rise from her bed, and finding her really ill, 
Susan Slader remained with her. 

“ If I had supposed I was so weak, I should 
not have come to trouble you,” she said. I 
have no right to do it ; but if you only knew 
how it rests me, just to be with you, you would 
not blame me.” 

“ I shall never blame you. I am glad to have 
you with me, and when you are able, you can 
set up housekeeping under the same roof with 
us. A woman has just moved out of the pleas- 
antest room in the other tenement, and I will 
engage it for you if you wish me to.” 

“ Please do so, and I will occupy it as soon 
as I can. But I must tell you about my life 
while I have been away from here. It has been 
harder than ever before. It was harder for me 


104 Tur7iing of the Wheel. 

to work, and besides, I knew my boy was grow- 
ing weaker. I was afraid to take any one into 
my confidence, and at last I was so fearful of 
some calamity, I hardly slept at all. 

“ About ten weeks ago the woman who took 
care of my boy wrote to me that he was failing 
rapidly, and she wished me to come to him. I 
felt obliged to let her know where I was, so that 
if my boy needed me, she could write. I went 
to him and stayed until he died, a week ago. 

“ When I saw him and knew he had not long 
to live, I lost all fear of his father. He would 
not have cared to burden himself with a sick 
child, and as for myself, 1 could easily have him 
arrested. He has been married since we sepa- 
rated, but he left his wife in a few months, and 
she is working to earn her own support. 

“You will wonder how I know this, and it 
seems as strange to me as it does to you. But 
when I was on my way, I rode for five miles 
alone in the stage with the physician who at- 
tended my boy when he was first hurt, and this 
physician has kept up his knowledge of my hus- 
band. I am sorry he has deceived another 
woman, but he would not dare now to make any 
claims upon me, and I am thankful my boy is 
beyond his rea ch. 

‘ My poor, abused boy ! It seemed, some- 


Mrs, Grey land, 105 

times, that he recognized me as his mother. 
He was restless when 1 was away from him ; 
and when I took him in my arms, he would 
nestle close to me, as he did when he was a baby. 
It was a great comfort to me, and I can never 
be grateful enough for the privilege of caring 
for him. It was worth more than I paid for it. 
God gave me strength to work for him.” 

Here the speakers voice was choked with 
sobs, and she was persuaded to postpone further 
talking until she should be stronger. But as 
one day went by after another, the strength for 
which she waited failed to come ; and at last 
she said : 

I shall never work any more. My life is 
nearly ended, and I am ready to leave the world 
in which I have suffered so much. I have not 
always done right. I can look back, now, and 
see where I have made many mistakes ; but 
Christ died for me, and I can trust Him to for- 
give my sins.” 

To please her friends, many of whom she 
had never recognized as such, she consented to 
see a physician, who frankly told her that she 
had not long to live. 

“ It is well,” she said with a smile. “ Death 
has no terrors for me.” 

“ A superior woman,” remarked the physician 


io6 The Turning of the Wheel. 

to Susan Slader, who had heard his decision. 
‘‘ She must have had great force of character, 
and I judge she has suffered keenly. She ought 
to have lived to old age, but she is worn out.” 

“As well she may be, doctor. She has been 
the wife of a drunkard who showed her no 
mercy.” 

“ Then may God pity her,” was replied. 
“There is no sadder fate for woman than that.” 

Mrs. Greyland had few arrangements to make. 
By dint of hard work and the closest economy, 
she had managed to save enough from her wages 
to meet the expenses of her sickness and burial ; 
and also to mark with a stone the last resting- 
place of her child. 

For years she had been looking forward to 
this very time ; and as she told Kate Mitchell, 
it was all so kindly ordered for her, she felt that 
she had reason for profound gratitude. 

To a young girl whom she had once be- 
friended when counsel and assistance were sorely 
needed, and who now visited her, she said : 

“Take warning by my fate, and never marry 
a man who is in danger of becoming a drunk- 
ard. Remember, too, that all who drink liquor, 
ever so moderately, are in danger. I had no 
one to warn me, and so I trusted and was made 
wretched.” 


Mrs, Greyland, 107 

Mrs. Greyland asked if her husband was in 
the city, and being told that he was, gave Orne 
Mitchell such information as would effectually 
prevent any trouble he might be disposed to 
make. She had no wish to see him. She knew 
that nothing she could say would influence him, 
and the love which once filled her heart had 
long ago died from neglect and cruelty. 

What money she had was placed in the hands 
of Orne Mitchell, who promised to carry out 
her wishes in regard to her burial. She was to 
lie by her child in a small country burial-ground, 
a hundred miles away ; and being assured of 
this, she had no further anxiety. 

How it was no one could understand, but she 
had been dead only a few hours, when Mr. 
Greyland called and asked to see his wife. For- 
tunately, Orne Mitchell was in the house and 
met this man at the door. 

“ Follow me and you shall see her,” he replied, 
and leading the way to an upper room he said, 
pointing to a shrouded form : ‘‘ There is all that 
remains of the woman who was once your wife, 
and the mother of your boy you worse than 
murdered. They have both gone beyond you. 
As for the other woman you have called wife, 
you probably know where she is.” 

“ How do you know ? What do you know ? ” 


io8 The Tttrnhig of the Wheel, 

stammered the discomfited man, as his companion 
uncovered the face of the dead, from the sight 
of which he would gladly have turned away, and 
yet which had for him a strange fascination. 

“ I know that you are a villain, and in the 
eye of the law a criminal. Worst of all, per- 
haps, you are a drunkard.” 

“That is my business and not yours,” ex- 
claimed Mr. Greyland, his anger overriding all 
other emotions. “ If my wife left money or 
property of any kind, I have a right to it, and I 
shall have it. I will see that she is properly 
buried and ” 

At this moment, Mr. Munson appeared and 
was soon made aware of the situation, when he 
sternly bade Mr. Greyland to leave, threatening 
him with arrest should he remain. 

“ You and the like of you call me a drunkard, 
do you ? ” he cried, livid with rage. 

“You are a drunkard,” was replied. 

“ And what was your father but a drunkard ? 
Everybody knows what he was, and who are 
you that you should order me like a dog ? ” 

“ I am the son of a drunkard, Mr. Greyland, 
and my mother was a drunkard’s wife ; so I 
know what it is to be dependent upon a drunk- 
ard,” responded Mr. Munson sadly. “ Person- 
ally I am not all I should be, but I shall never 


Mrs. Greyland. 


109 


be a drunkard. I helped your wife as I could, and 
I should be glad to help you to lead a better life ; 
but, Mr. Greyland, you have nothing more to do 
here. It will be better for you to go quietly.” 

He stayed for no further bidding, and it was be- 
lieved that he left the city that day. Mrs. Grey- 
land was buried by her child, and orders given 
for placing suitable head-stones at their graves. 

“ Poor thing, she has got through with hei 
troubles, and I am glad of it,” said the woman 
who had so long cared for her boy, and who 
lingered by the grave with Orne Mitchell. 

She was married when she was too young to 
know what was before her, and she expected to 
be happy. There wasn’t anybody to tell her 
better, but she soon found out what a mistake 
she had made. 

“ She was a Christian, or she never could have 
gone through what she did, and if it hadn’t been 
for the factories, she couldn’t have earned half 
money enough to pay me and buy off her hus- 
band. She must have pinched herself to do it, 
anyway, and I wonder she lived so long. 

O Mr. Mitchell, liquor is at the bottom of 
more trouble than people think. It don’t always 
show, but there are women dying by inches 
through fear of men nobody would think of call- 
ing drunkards. I think, sometimes, that women 


iio The Turning of the Wheel. 

will have to rise up and put a stop to rum-sell- 
ing. I don’t know how they are going to do it, 
but if the Lord lays the work upon them, He 
will give them all needed wisdom and strength.” 

“ I hope I shall live to see that day,” responded 
the young man heartily. 

“ I hope you will, and if I aint mistaken, we 
have started towards it. When I was young, 
there was no such way for women to earn money 
as there is now. They couldn’t earn enough to 
begin to be independent. Men had things pretty 
much their own way.” 

Jane Grey land’s story, so far as it was known, 
was published in one of the local papers, and for 
the time producing quite a sensation, eliciting 
various comments and reminding many of other 
women whose lives had been tragedies because 
of intoxicating drink. 

At the same time there was much discussion 
in regard to the laws which gave to men such 
absolute control of the property and earnings of 
their wives, with an equally absolute control of 
their children, and which well-nigh ignored the 
mother’s claims. 

The injustice of these laws was generally ac- 
knowledged, although only the actual sufferers 
had any adequate conception of the cruelty and 
tyranny practiced under their sanction. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


JIM CARROLL. 

Jim Carroll is coming here this evening,” 
said Orne Mitchell, as he drew his chair to the 
supper-table. 

“ That is nothing new or strange,” responded 
Emma Slader, glancing at her sister. “ He has 
been here at least once a week, ever since you 
came back last fall. He seems very anxious to 
perfect himself in the studies he is pursuing.” 

“ He is, and he is likely to succeed,” was 
Orne’s reply. “There is not another man in 
the shop improving as fast as he does.” 

“He is just as good as he can be,” now 
chimed in Ruth, who, by persistent coaxing, 
had gained her eldest sisters consent to join 
the “ Lowell family.” “ But he is homely, and 
isn’t he awkward, Susan ? ” 

“ He is both homely and awkward,” was re- 
plied. “ I think, however, there will be a grand 
transformation in that man sometime. By and 
by some new influence will be brought to bear 
upon him, and then you will see what Jim Car- 
roll really is.” 


(Ill) 


112 The Turnmg of the Wheel, 

“ Perhaps you will see too.” 

“ I hope I shall. I remember when I was an 
awkward, bashful girl, and I know how to pity 
others who are awkward and bashful.” 

“ It is hard to believe you were ever in that 
condition, but I suppose we must take your word 
for it,” remarked Orne, looking admiringly at 
the girl who sat opposite him. 

A slight flush upon the face, to which each 
year added some new charm, was the only ac- 
knowledgment of this compliment ; and pres- 
ently the compliment seemed to be forgotten. 

Jim Carroll had been in the shop somewhat 
more than a year. For a time he worked on in 
a faithful, plodding way, without exciting atten- 
tion, beyond what was bestowed upon his homely 
face and awkward manners. 

He had come a long distance ; walking most 
of the way, as he told the manager of the shop 
to whom he applied for work. He was poor. 
He had not a cent in his pocket. He was an 
orphan, and had been bound to a man who 
treated him like a slave. Yet he remained in 
his place until he was twenty-one years of age; 
and then, instead of- seeking employment else- 
where, he lingered near familiar scenes ; because 
of a cousin, a poor lame girl, who begged him 
not to leave her. He thought he had a natural 


Jim Carroll. 


113 

aptitude for iron-working. He knew some- 
thing of common blacksmithing, and only asked 
the privilege of learning to work skilfully. 

All this was told frankly and simply, as the 
speaker stood, hat in hand, before the man who 
seemed to him to hold the key of his destiny. 

“You are rather old to begin to learn a 
trade,” said this man, not unkindly. “You can 
earn more in some other way for the next year 
or two.” 

“ But I am thinking of what may come after- 
wards,” was his reply, and this secured him the 
situation he desired. 

As I have said, he was hardly noticed at first. 
Then it came gradually to be understood that 
Jim was getting to be a first-rate workman, and 
was entrusted with jobs few others could accom- 
plish. 

He was a good-natured, kind-hearted fellow. 
Everybody said that, although he kept much to 
himself. He never idled away his evenings on 
the street or in cheap places of amusement. If 
any were sick, he would nurse them as tenderly 
as a woman. If any were in trouble, he was 
ready to help, to the full extent of his ability ; 
and this done, he again withdrew to his ordi- 
nary isolation. 

From the first, Orne Mitchell had regarded 
8 


1 14 The Turning of the Wheel. 

him curiously. He was a large man, with a 
massive head, and one of those rough, rugged 
faces, from whieh culture, refinement, and genu- 
ine goodness sometimes evoke the rarest beauty ; 
but which, under evil influenees, beeome fear- 
fully cruel and brutish. That there was a natu- 
ral delicacy in his composition was proved by 
his small, shapely hand, whieh seemed to belong 
to one of different mold. 

It was while engaged with Orne on a night 
job that these two compared notes, and learned 
much of each other’s history. 

“How eould you bear it!” exclaimed the 
younger man, after listening to a reeital of such 
hardships as made his breath eome quick and 
fast. “ I would not have borne it for any- 
body.” 

“ Perhaps you would,” was replied. “ My 
cousin Marian was the only person in all the 
world I had to love me ; and if I came away 
she would be alone except for her mother, and 
her mother couldn’t do much for her with such 
a wicked husband. I eould help her if I stayed ; 
and I thought more of her than I did of my- 
self.” 

“ Where is she now ?” 

“At home,” answered James Carroll; and 
then he proceeded to describe that home, with 


Jim Cai^roll, 


115 

the man who made it a hated place. "‘My 
mother was sister to Marian’s father, and I 
promised my mother I would take care of Mar- 
ian, and I am going to do it. She is lame, and 
she is never very well ; but she can keep house 
for me, and we can have a home together.” 

“ Then you intend to marry your cousin ?” 

“ I never thought of her in that way, but I 
am going to take care of her. There are only 
we two in the family.” 

“ How does she get along without you ? 1 

suppose she writes to you ? ” 

“ She does, but she never writes anything to 
trouble me. I know well enough how bad it is 
for her, and I mean to send for her next year.” 

Soon after this conversation Orne Mitchell 
invited his fellow-workman to call upon him ; 
and at the time of the announcement with 
which this chapter opens he was a frequent vis- 
itor at “ Susan Slader s.” Although Orne’s sen- 
ior by six years, in certain kinds of experience, 
he was but a boy. Of books he knew nothing, 
beyond those used in acquiring the simplest 
rudiments of education ; and the world now 
opened to his wondering gaze was new and , 
strange. Absorbed in reading, he forgot every 
discomfort and disadvantage. Histories and 
travels were to him like enchanted dreams. 


ii6 The Turning of the Wheel. 

Sometimes, in the past, there had come to 
him the dim perception of a glory which should 
idealize his life, and fill it with all sweet harmo- 
nies. He wondered now, if he had caught the 
first glimpses of this glory. 

From histories and travels he grew to take a 
deep interest in scientific books ; studying them 
with a zest and earnestness which quite surprised 
even Orne Mitchell, who was himself an enthu- 
siastic student. With this friend he was frank 
and communicative ; expressing his feelings 
without reserve and revealing much of his inner 
life. 

On the evening in question he talked less 
than usual, and when opportunity offered he 
confided to, Orne the fact that he was troubled 
in regard to his cousin. He had received a let- 
ter from the only person living near her who 
ever wrote to him, and this letter informed him 
that during the last few months her step-father 
had treated her with so much cruelty that she 
decided to try her fortune with strangers. When 
she left home she had two dollars in money and 
a scanty supply of clothing. 

“ I meant to send for her before long,” said 
James Carroll. “ I knew by the way she wrote 
that things were getting worse. I would start 
and try to find her, if I knew where to go.” 


yim Carroll. 


117 


“ Perhaps she will come here.” 

“ She may, but it wouldn’t be like her to 
come without my sending for her. She knew I 
would send for her as soon as I could provide 
her with what she needs.” 

Thus this suggestion was dismissed ; but a 
few days after, a stage-driver was inquiring for 
James Carroll. 

“Had a woman aboard to-day, who wants to 
find him. Says he is her cousin, and by the 
looks of her she ought to find somebody. She 
is the poorest, weakliest thing I ever had aboard ; 
but she has the ways of a lady, and she might 
call the birds without their knowing but what 
she belonged to them. She said her cousin 
works in the big shop. Say, boys, any of you 
know James Carroll?” 

“ I know him like a book,” said a young man, 
who just then joined the group to which these 
remarks were made. “ Anybody want him ?” 

“Yes, I want him,” answered the stage-driver. 
“ I promised the woman I would find him, if he 
was in Lowell ; so if you know where he is, 
come along and we will hunt him up.” 

Marian Gresham was sitting abone in the 
home of one to whom she had been introduced 
by her acquaintance of a day. Now that she 
was at her journey’s end, she felt many misgiv- 


ii8 The Turnhig of the Wheel. 

ings. She wondered if the promise made to 
her so long before would be remembered ; and 
was reassured only when her cousin sat beside 
her. 

“ How could you start off so ?” he asked. 

“ Because I was obliged to,” she answered. 

There is money for us somewhere. A letter 
came and he got it. I heard him tell mother 
about it, and tell her, too, what she must say, to 
help him get the money. He made her promise 
not to tell me, and then he hid the letter in his 
old chest under the bed. He told mother he 
shouldn’t say anything about it for six months ; 
and by that time I should be dead or crazy. 
He took mother off with him for two or three 
days ; I suppose because he was afraid to leave 
us together. Then I hunted up the letter and 
started. I didn’t tell anybody but Dick I was 
coming away, and I didn’t tell him where I was 
going. 

“ Mother’s husband — I never can call him 
father again — drinks more, every year, and when 
he has had liquor, he is ten times as bad as he 
used to be. I am afraid he will kill mother, but 
she has often told me that she would be thankful 
when you were ready to have me come to you. 
I have got the letter safe, and father’s old Bible, 
with the family record in it.” 


Jim Carroll. 


119 

This was said, not as I have written it, hut in 
reply to various questions. 

, “ How did you get here, Marian ? Did you 

beg your way ?” asked James Carroll. 

“ No ; I couldn’t do that,” was replied softly. 
“ Dick brought me fifteen miles, in the night, to 
take the stage, and I rode till I hadn’t but ten 
cents left. I took my pillow and bobbins with 
me ; and when I got as far as that, I stopped 
and made some lace. People would buy it, and 
some would give a little, to pay for seeing such 
a curiosity. If it hadn’t been for the lace, I 
never could have got here. So you see I can 
earn my own living. I shall not be a bufden to 
you. O, James, you don’t know how hard it 
has been for me since you came away. It seems 
as though I never should be sick again, if I can 
be near you.” 

“ I hope you won’t, Marian. I knew it was 
hard for you, and I have only waited to save 
enough to furnish some rooms, before sending 
for you. But I am glad you have come. I can 
give you more comforts than you have been 
used to, and I will take good care of you. You 
never shall hear any more cross words, if I can 
help it.” 

“ And shall I be a burden to you, James ?” 

“ No, Marian, no,” he answered ; and to give 


120 The Tu 7 ' 7 iing of the Wheel. 

emphasis to this assertion, he touched his lips to 
her forehead. “ I must leave you here for a 
few days, but we will soon be settled in our own 
home. Then if there is any money for us, any- 
where, we will try and get it.” 

The woman with whom Marian Gresham had 
found a temporary resting-place, and who had 
already heard a part of her history, was quite 
willing to give her shelter until other arrange- 
ments could be made. 

Orne Mitchell having been informed of her 
arrival, it was decided in family council that the 
cousins should be invited to tea the following 
day. Susan and Kate were deputed to call upon 
the stranger, and give the invitation in person. 

Don’t go, expecting to see a pretty young 
girl,” said Orne. “ She is seven years older than 
Jim, and he says she has been sick so much, she 
looks older than she really is.” 

“ Why, she is an old maid,” exclaimed Ruth, 
in a tone which implied that an old maid was a 
person to be commiserated. 

, “ What if she is ? ” replied Orne laughingly. 

“ She has seen the time when she was only six- 
teen.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


MARIAN GRESHAM. 

The visitors were prepared to see what Aunt 
Dolly called “ a homely woman,” but they were 
agreeably disappointed both in the looks and 
appearance of Marian Gresham. She was at 
work, throwing the tiniest of bobbins now this 
way and now that, with a deftness which quite 
fascinated those who saw for the first time the 
process of lace-making. 

“ Do you have any plan about it ? ” at length 
asked Kate. 

“ Oh, yes, indeed,” she answered smiling. 
“There is the pattern, and the pins keep the 
threads in the right place. If I should throw 
one bobbin wrong, it would spoil the whole.” 

“ How could you ever learn to do it ?” 

“ I learned so long ago that I can hardly re- 
member when I could not make lace. My 
mother is a lace-maker. It is poor work, but it 
is better than nothing, and poor people cannot 
always choose what they shall do. If I was 
well and strong, I might earn money to help 

(I2I) 


122 


The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

James ; but as I am not, I hope he won’t be any 
poorer for my coming.” 

He will be the richer,” said Susan Slader. 
“You will make a home for him, besides helping 
him in many other ways. Then he has been so 
anxious about you, he would have been home- 
sick, if he had not felt that every day brought 
you nearer to him. You are fortunate in having 
such a friend.” 

“ I know I am, and nobody else knows quite 
how good he is. If it had not been for him, I 
should have died long ago.” 

As Marian Gresham paid such hearty tribute 
to her cousin’s goodness, her face lighted up with 
so much of tender affection, that despite high 
cheek-bones and a sallow complexion, she was 
almost beautiful. 

“ She has eyes and hands like Jim’s,” said Kate 
Mitchell in reply to a question from her brother 
on her return home. • 

“Then she has two good points,” was re- 
sponded. “ I have seen Jim’s eyes when there 
was a look in them which almost started the tears 
from mine ; and if small hands and feet come of 
gentle blood, Jim has a claim to nobility. It is 
my opinion, there have been ill-assorted mar- 
riages in his family, although he never told me 
any such thing.” 


a ria n Gres ha m. 


123 


“ Who knows but we may have a live romance 
right here among us ! ” exclaimed Ruth, looking 
up from her book. “ I wish something out of 
the common course would happen.’' 

“ Something will happen,” responded Susan. 
“We are to have company, and the rest of us 
must do extra work, so that Kate can be at 
home.” 

All were interested in the housekeeping ar- 
rangements of the cousins. Rooms were rented, 
furnished, and occupied. Everything was of the 
plainest, but with this they were satisfied. There 
was a home for both, and in this home there was 
neither distrust nor fear. 

Meanwhile Orne Mitchell was consulted in 
regard to the letter which had seemed to Marian 
Gresham of so much importance, and which pur- 
ported to have been written by a lawyer who 
was ready to give information to proper parties 
whereby a considerable fortune might be secured 
to the heirs of Walter and Mary Gresham. 

“ My mother had three brothers,” said James 
Carroll by way of explanation. “ One died in, 
England many years ago, and I know nothing^ 
about him. One was Marian’s father. The^ 
other was older, and a different man from his 
brothers. I have heard my mother speak of him 
as being married and having no children ; but he 


124 Turning of the Wheel. 

was not on good terms with his family. If there 
is any property coming to us, it must come from 
him. I have not much faith in it, but it is best 
to be sure about it. 

“ We only came to the Provinces two or three 
years before Marian’s father died. I don’t know 
why he came, unless he hoped to better his for- 
tune ; and if he had left his drinking habits be- 
hind him, he might have done well. But chang- 
ing the place did not change his habits. He 
killed himself with liquor, and so did my father. 
I know that, although he died when I was very 
young. My mother came over with my uncle 
because she had no one else to look to. Just 
before she died she wanted me to promise two 
things. One was, that I would never taste of 
liquor under any circumstances ; and the other 
was, that I would take care of Marian. I will 
keep them both. I have come up like a heathen, 
but I have remembered my promises.” 

“ I know you have, Jim, and if you came up 
like a heathen, you are now a Christian.” 

I hope I am, but I am not certain until I 
am put to a sharp test. I am thinking it is time 
and condition that prove what a man really is. 
If I should find myself so selfish as to count 
pleasure before duty, I should have no faith in 
my religion. I am looking for the test.” 


Marian Gresham, 125 

As the event proved, the letter which had 
come into the hands of the cousins, was a state- 
ment of facts, and within six months James 
Carroll and Marian Gresham, each received the 
sum of five thousand dollars, most of which was 
at once profitably invested. Nothing of this, 
however, was known beyond the circle of their 
immediate friends, and except that there was 
some addition to the furniture of their rooms, 
no change was made in their style of living. 

After so many years of poverty and suffering, 
their present life seemed luxurious. She who 
waited at home desired nothing better, and for 
a time not a thought intruded to mar her happi- 
ness. But at length there was a whisper which 
sadly troubled her ; and this whisper grew more 
distinct until, one morning, a woman living in 
the same house came into her room and asked 
abruptly : 

Is Mr. Carroll going to marry Susan Slader T 

“ I don’t know as he is,” replied Marian in a 
voice she could not quite control. 

“ Well, anyway, folks are talking about it and 
saying he would marry her if it wasn’t for you. 
It wouldn’t be strange if he liked her. She is 
smart and handsome both, and as good a girl as 
you can find anywhere. But I tell folks your 
cousin won’t turn you off for Susan Slader or 


126 The Ttirning of the Wheel. 

anybody else.” Then, startled by the white, wan 
face of her companion, the visitor added as she 
left the room : “ I hope I haven’t said any hurt.” 

When alone, Marian Gresham covered her 
face with her hands and wept more bitter tears 
than any she had shed in her old home. What 
could she do ? What ought she to do ? Her 
cousin James was all the world to her. She 
could not tear herself away from him and go 
forth, friendless and alone. 

And Susan Slader. Did he love her ? To 
Marian she was the embodiment of all womanly 
graces and excellencies. She was so strong, so 
wise, so kind, and withal so handsome ; just such 
a woman as James ought to marry. At this 
thought the hot blood surged up from a wildly 
beating heart, crimsoning neck and cheek and 
brow. 

I cannot give him up,” she exclaimed invol- 
untarily. “ I love him a thousand times better 
than she can. He is all I have. I love him 
better than I love my own life, and I am old 
and lame. God help me ! ” 

Just outside the door stood James Carroll ; 
every sense rendered doubly acute by the high 
tension of his nerves. He heard the loud sob- 
bing ; the passionate words ; and knew, as well 
as though he had been told, to whom reference 


Mar2a7i Gresham, 


127 


was made. Never had he voluntarily turned 
from Marian when she was unhappy ; but now 
he crept silently down the stairs, and went out 
into the bright spring sunshine. 

An accident, by which his left hand was in- 
jured, had sent him home in a mood quite 
unusual to him. He had fancied how Marian 
would welcome and pity him ; congratulating 
himself that he possessed such a friend. Now he 
must have time for reflection before meeting her. 

Following the windings of the river, he came 
to a secluded spot, where he would be safe from 
intrusion ; and here he took counsel with his 
heart ; reviewed the past, and analyzed his pres- 
ent feelings. 

Full well he knew what he would do if he 
was entirely free to choose his own course. But 
Marian must be first considered. He had told 
Orne Mitchell the truth, when he said he had 
never thought of marrying her ; yet not a hope 
of his life but was in some way linked with her. 
If the possibility of another sharing their home 
had ever occurred to him, he still pictured her 
as sitting in her accustomed place. 

God help me ! ” he, too, cried. He would 
have laid down his life for Marian. He could 
not remember when he had not loved her better 
than he loved himself. She was the only woman 


128 The Turning of the Wheel. 

whose heart he had read ; the only woman who 
had given him her confidence ; and whatever he 
might have chosen under other circumstances, 
there was nothing repulsive in the thought of 
her as his wife. 

The noon bell rang before he had reached a 
decision ; and hastening home, he was met by 
Orne Mitchell, who had called to inquire for 
him. 

'' I have frightened Marian nearly to death,’' 
was Orne’s first exclamation. told her you 
were hurt, and she said she had not seen you. 
How are you ? How is your hand ? Is it very 
painful ?” 

“ I guess not. I have not thought about it. I 
have been down by the river. It was better for 
me to be there than in the house. Shall you 
be busy this evening ? I want to talk with you.” 

“ I am never too busy for a talk with you,” 
was replied ; and the speaker walked away, won- 
dering what was the matter with Jim. 

When evening came, he no longer wondered. 
Many questions were asked him, which he an- 
swered frankly, although he would have pre- 
ferred to remain silent. 

“ For all this, Marian is to live with me,” at 
length said James Carroll. 

“ I hope you are not angry,” responded Orne 


Marian Gresham, 129 

Mitchell, looking into the flashing eyes before 
him. 

“ I am not angry with you ; perhaps not with 
any one,” was replied, and here the conversation 
closed. 

Marian was very unhappy. This she could 
not conceal. There was also a constraint in her 
manner her cousin had never before seen. Dur- 
ing his days of enforced idleness she left him 
much alone, when he sadly missed her sympathy. 
Susan Slader was called home by the illness of 
her mother ; so that whatever influence her pres- 
ence exerted upon him was removed. 

He knew that Marian loved him, and yet he 
found it impossible to speak to her of marriage, 
until one evening, when he surprised her, weep- 
ing, and his heart went out to her in a feeling 
akin to passionate love. Even then, it was long 
before he could convince her that he really 
wished her to be his wife. 

She urged that she was old, and lame, and 
unattractive. For answer he assured her that to 
him she would never seem old ; that he seldom 
thought of her lameness ; and that in regard to 
beauty, he had none of which to boast. He 
provoked her to something like merriment, and 
at last won from her permission to name the 
wedding day. 

9 


130 


The Ihtrning of the Wheel. 

For some reason she would hardly acknowl- 
edge to herself, Kate Mitchell was glad that her 
friend was away when it was announced that 
Marian Gresham and James Carroll were soon 
to be married. Not many were interested in 
this. It was a matter which really concerned 
only the parties themselves, unless, possibly, it 
might concern one other. 

A pleasant tenement was rented, and furnished 
in a style to which the newly wedded couple were 
C[uite unused. Their parlor was to them delight- 
ful ; always open, and always warmed. Gradual- 
ly books accumulated upon the centre-table, until 
a handsome book-case occupied a niche which 
seemed to have been left expressly for it. 

Susan Slader returned to find herself cordially 
welcomed in this home, while she heartily con- 
gratulated the occupants upon their happiness. 

“ Kate says Orne is here half of the time, 
when he is not at work,” she remarked. 

“ Hardly that,” replied her host. “ But we 
are studying together, and as he has no wife to 
keep him at home, he comes here. I do not 
like to leave Marian alone.” 

Always Marian ; the pale, lame woman who 
lived only for him, and who had no earthly wish 
or hope which did not find its full fruition in his 
love and kindness. 


Marian Gresharn. 13 1 

James Carroll was now well skilled in his 
trade. Not Orne Mitchell’s superior in mere 
machinist’s work ; but grasping more firmly, 
perhaps, a knowledge of the laws which govern 
the application of force to matter. He received 
liberal wages. He had no complaint to make 
of his employers ; yet as he learned more of his 
own capabilities and the undeveloped resources 
around him, he anticipated the time when he 
should introduce a new industry, to compete 
with those already established. 

“ If I had money, and you would take me as 
a partner, I would go into business with you,” 
said Orne Mitchell, one evening when he had 
given expression to his thoughts. 

‘‘Take you ! ” was responded. “ You are the 
very man I should want. We could begin in a 
small way and work up. There would be some 
risk in it, but ‘ nothing venture, nothing have.’ ” 

“That is true, Jim, and the greater the good 
to be gained, the greater must be the venture. 
We are sure of work and fair pay where we are. I 
used to think the man who was doing business for 
himself, with others at work for him, had an easy 
time of it ; but I have changed my mind about 
that, as I have about many other things. I 
think, now, that a business manager earns his 
money in a hard way. He has all the responsi- 


132 The Turning of the Wheel. 

bility and all the anxiety. He runs all the risks, 
and is obliged to bear all the blame.” 

I know all that, Orne, but there is a spirit 
in me that makes me want to see what I can do 
for myself. Perhaps my head is not long enough 
to carry out my plans ; but if we should put our 
heads together, I think we could accomplish 
something. I should like to travel. I want to 
see other foundries, and I want to understand 
better about smelting-furnaces. There is a great 
deal to be learned that I know nothing about 
now.” 

“ Of course there is, and the more we learn, 
the more we shall wish to learn. There is no 
end to it. I wish, now, I could go through col- 
lege. I never thought of such a thing before 1 
left home, and if I had, it would have done no 
good. If either of my brothers wished to go, he 
should ; but their plans are settled otherwise. 
Ruel is to be a farmer, and Sam is sure to be a 
carpenter ; a big carpenter too, as he says, and 
if he keeps on growing, he will stand a fair 
chance to reach the height of his ambition.” 


CHAPTER X. 


A NEW BUSINESS FIRM. 

Mrs. Mitchell looked around upon her chil- 
dren, now all with her. It was hard to realize 
the fact, yet ten years had elapsed since the first 
venture was made from the home nest. 

Bessie, “ the baby,” was ten years old ; Lizzie 
twelve ; Sam and his twin sister, Sarah, were 
eighteen ; Ruel was twenty, and Mary twenty- 
three. 

’Most grown up out of the way,” said Aunt 
Dolly, who, although feeling the infirmities of 
age, still made herself useful in the family. “It 
beats me how things have gone on since I came 
here. Tell you what, it was a good thing when 
Kate started off to try her fortune. Things 
might always have jogged on after the old fash- 
ion if she hadn’t took a start. Grandsir said, 
before he died, ’twas the best thing ever hap- 
pened to the family. 

“ Kate has got a likely man for a husband. 
Aint any stuck up, if he is a storekeeper. 
Plaint any reason to be, either, seeing his father 

(133) 


134 Turnifig of the Wheel. 

wa’n’t anything but a pack-peddler. Tell you 
what, Mrs. Mitchell, ’most all the folks started 
pretty much alike, if you only knew the begin- 
ning.” 

Mrs. Mitchell, who had heard only now and 
then a word of this rambling speech, made no 
reply, and Aunt Dolly crooned on. 

“ Richard Tolman’s folks aint any smarter 
than we be. His boys aint any likelier-look- 
ing than ours ; and his girls, with their black 
eyes and smiling ways, can’t beat ours for looks. 
Mrs. Mitchell, haint you ever thought that 
Orne is kind of struck with Jennie ? ” 

“ I haven’t thought much about it,” was the 
truthful response. I am sure Orne has no 
idea of being married at present, and Jennie is 
young yet.” 

'' She is nigh on to eighteen. ’Most as old as 
you were when you came here, but likely she 
don’t know much more about keeping house 
than our baby does. She’s a nice-spoken girl, 
though ; just as polite to me as if I was a rich 
woman, and I aint going to say anything against 
her. She has got a pianny. Her gran mam 
didn’t have any, but her father has got money 
enough, and it is nobody’s business how much 
he spends for his girls. 

“ I know Orne says he aint going to be mar- 


A New Business Firm. 


135 


ried till he has more to live on than he has got 
now ; and he calculates to set up for himself. 
I don’t quite see the way clear about that last. 
Says I to myself, when I first heard of it : ‘If 
Orne Mitchell can do that, he’s a smart man.’ 
Now, I want to ask you what you think makes 
the difference in folks ? ” 

“ God makes the difference,” answered Mrs. 
Mitchell absently. 

“ That’s just what I think, and He don’t ask 
any more of folks than they can do. Now, I 
never could done what Susan Slader has. I 
couldn^t anyway if Fd strained every nerve in 
my body. I could worked as steady, but it aint 
likely I was ever so spry ; and if I was, I never 
had any such head-piece as she has got. Her 
mother says she always was a master-hand to 
see clear through anything. She has got to be 
worth nigh on to two thousand dollars, besides 
all she has paid on the farm, and helped the 
other girls. There, Mrs. Mitchell, just look 
out if you want to see a handsome sight.” 

Coming down the road were Jennie Tolman 
and Orne Mitchell, the former a pretty, grace- 
ful girl, whose attention seemed wholly absorbed 
by her companion. She was tall, yet Orne 
Mitchell looked down into her upturned eyes ; 
and those who observed them saw that a blush 


136 The Turning of the Wheel. 

overspread her face. The reason of her coming 
was soon explained. A few days before, the 
Tolman family had been invited to tea with the 
Mitchells, and it was now proposed to return 
the civility. 

“ Percy has gone fishing with Cousin Preston, 
and Fannie has a headache ; and as every one 
else in the house was busy, aunt asked me to 
come as her messenger,” said the young lady, 
after tendering the invitation, which was cordi- 
ally accepted. 

“ Are you any homesick ? ” asked Aunt Dolly, 
when she fancied it was her turn to speak. 

“ Oh, no, indeed,” was replied. “ I think I 
should never be homesick at grandfather’s ; and 
I could hardly be homesick anywhere, if Percy 
was with me.” 

“ I don’t wonder at that. He is always lively 
as a cricket, and don’t mind putting himself out 
for other folks. If he keeps on that way he’ll 
make a husband worth having.” 

‘‘ He is a brother worth having,” responded 
Miss Tolman, quite willing to prolong the con- 
versation with one of whose plain speaking and 
quaint humor she had heard so much. 

Orne Mitchell was enjoying a vacation from 
work, and proposed to make the most of his 
opportunities; so he walked back with Jennie 


A New Busmess Firm, 137 

Tolman, and did not return home until late in 
the evening. He had sometimes been accused 
of want of gallantry, but this accusation must 
now be withdrawn. 

The next day the entire Mitchell family, in- 
cluding Aunt Dolly, made “ an afternoon’s visit 
at Gransir Tolman’s”; the old man welcoming 
all with the hearty cordiality which had charac- 
terized him throughout his life. 

“ It aint likely I shall be here when you 
come home again,” he said to Orne. “Your 
grandsir went first, and I am just ready ; only 
waiting till the Master calls me. I am glad I 
have lived to see you all prospering so well. I 
thought a good deal of your grandsir, and now 
he has gone his grandchildren seem near to me. 
Your father said you and another young man 
were thinking of setting up business for your- 
selves.” 

“Yes, sir; but I shall probably stay where I 
am for a few months longer.” 

“You work pretty steady, Orne.” 

“Yes, sir; I don’t have many vacations. 
Rainy days make no difference with my work.” 

“No; it is all under cover. I am an old 
man, Orne, and may be I shall ask some 
questions I ought not to ; but if you are will- 
ing to tell me, I should like to know if you 


138 The Turning of the Wheel. 

haven’t saved up something since you come of 
age?” 

“Yes, sir, I have. I made up my mind be- 
fore I left home, that if I ever earned anything 
I would save part of it. I have not a great 
deal ; but what I have would help a little in 
starting business.” 

“Well, my boy, I am glad to hear it, and if 
you will do good with your money I hope you 
will be a rich man. A good deal of responsi- 
bility goes with money. It is something the 
Lord calls folks to account for. I don’t hold 
there is any wrong in making money ; but a 
good many get it in wrong ways, and then 
make a bad use of it. I am glad your father’s 
family are all prospering. He says his last days 
are going to be his best days, and the old place 
shows it is well cared for. Ruel is a good 
farmer.” 

“ Better than father ever was.” 

“ I think he is, ’though he hasn’t had anything 
like the experience your father has. He has 
got the pastures well stocked with sheep and 
young cattle; so there will be something to sell 
to bring in money. A farmer needs to look 
out for that.” 

Just then Sam Mitchell called to his brother, 
and Mr. Tolman bade Orne go to join the 


A New Business FBm. 139 

merry group gathered under the shade of the 
trees. There were young men and maidens ; 
each cherishing glad hopes and anticipations ; 
while which of these would be realized and 
which would fail God only knew. The race is 
not always to the swift, and yet in the wise order- 
ing of events, as is the sowing, so is the reaping. 

Why had there come from English soil a 
man who, following his own inclinations, pitched 
his tent over against that of another who could 
not fail to give him the friendship he desired ? 
Often had James Carroll asked himself this 
question ; marvelling more and more as the 
years rolled on. 

He was respected and happy. His wife was 
the same to him she had ever been, and he was 
a loyal, tender husband. By the simple accu- 
mulation of interest, ten thousand dollars had 
increased to a much larger sum ; and the half 
of this, belonging to himself, he wished to in- 
vest in business; only waiting until Orne Mitch- 
ell should be ready to join him. 

A few miles from the city there had sprung up 
a village, with two or three small manufacturing 
establishments. There was abundance of water- ^ 
power, and the men on the ground were desirous 
that a good machinist should locate among 
them. 


140 The Turning of the Wheel, 

‘‘ The right man can start up a paying busi- 
ness, here, in a month, and there is all the chance 
in the world to enlarge, when times demand 
it,” said one. “ We don’t want to go half a 
dozen miles to get a job done that ought to be 
done here. It is carrying money out of the 
place too, and that is no way to build up.” 

James Carroll heard of these remarks, and 
proceeded to make inquiries which resulted in 
their confirmation. With Orne Mitchell he 
then went to the village, where they learned its 
resources by actual observation. They con- 
versed with several parties, both proprietors 
and workmen ; and were so favorably impressed 
that they hastened to secure the advantageous 
opening. A building was erected and necessary 
tools purchased. The two men were to work 
together ; the profits each should receive, to be 
in proportion to capital invested. 

“ So, Mitchell, you are going to work just as 
hard as Jim does, and not get so much for it,” 
said an elderly man who always found some 
occasion for grumbling. 

“ I shall work as hard as I please, and have as 
much for it as my hands and my money will earn,” 
was replied. “ If Jim furnishes more than half 
of the working force, he is entitled to more than 
half of the profits. I haven’t as much money 


A New Business Firm. 141 

to put into the business as he has, and money 
counts.” 

Yes, but work ought to count. It is a dif- 
ferent thing too. It is giving your strength 
that you can’t get back again. It is just a part 
of your life. That is what it is. Where did 
Jim get so much money?” 

He inherited it from an uncle who died a 
few years ago.” 

“ Then it didn’t cost him anything. He never 
worked for it a single day, did he ? ” 

- No.” 

“ That is some folks’ luck. I wish it was mine ; 
but there is no such good news for me. If I 
was in your place, I should be mad every min- 
ute, to think that when Jim didn’t work any 
harder than I did, he would get so much more 
for it.” 

“ He will get no more for his work than I 
shall for mine, and his money will draw no 
higher interest than mine. I am glad he is will- 
ing to take me as partner on such fair terms.” 

‘‘Well, if you don’t complain, I don’t know 
as anybody else need to. How many hands are 
you going to have ? ” 

“ Four. Jim has two and I have two. Mine 
are the largest, but I don’t think I shall charge 
him anything extra on that account.” 


142 


The Turrdng of the Wheel, 


This provoked a laugh, and the grumbler re- 
turned to his work which he had too long neg- 
lected. Presently, however, he returned to ask 
further questions. 

“ What kind of work are you going to do ? 

“ Any kind we can get to do.” 

“ How many lathes are you going to have?” 

''Two for the present.” 

" That is a small beginning. Seems to me if 
I had as much money as they say Jim has, I 
would start bigger than that. Going to have a 
foundry ? ” 

"We hope to have one sometime.” 

" Well, good luck to you. You are two first- 
rate fellows, if you are notional and straight- 
laced. When you get well started perhaps I 
will come out and work for you, if you will give 
me a good job. Is Jim going to take his wife 
out there right away ? ” 

" She will go when he does. He is building 
a house, and as soon as two or three rooms are 
finished we shall start.” 

" Well, good luck to you. I thought it was 
strange Jim married such an old woman, till I 
heard she had money. Money comes pouring 
into some folks’ laps, but it never did into mine. 
Much as I can do to get a living anyway.” 

From their fellow-workmen James Carroll 


A New Business Firm, 


143 


and Orne Mitchell received hearty assurances of 
good-will and prophecies of success. 1 he man- 
agers of the shop, on the contrary, gave them 
little encouragement ; yet nothing daunted they 
matured their plans. 

Many tender associations had endeared ^ to 
them their present homes. “ Susan Slader s 
was not what it had been, yet up to the time of 
his leaving the city Orne remained a member of 
the family, which kept its original number, de- 
spite many changes. His sisters, Kate and 
Mary, were married, as also were Lucy and 
Emma Slader ; while Sarah and Ruth, with a 
still younger sister of Susan’s, were with her. 

Like a mother to them all, she was a woman 
to whom each year brought some new attrac- 
tion, and in whom each emergency developed 
some hitherto latent power. People wondered 
that she remained unmarried; but for all suit- 
ors she had the same reply. When her friends 
decided to establish themselves in business she 
bade them God-speed. She was sure they would 
succeed. They had the elements of character 
which insure success in any undertaking.^^ 

“ Why not go into business yourself? Orne 

one day asked her. , . 

“ I am thinking of going into the real estate 

business,” she replied. “ This house is for sale. 


144 Ttirning of the Wheel. 

and I think I shall buy it. Then I shall buy 
the unoccupied land adjoining and set out some 
trees. I am going to earn the money to pay 
for it too. What I have is so well invested I 
wish to leave it where it is.” 

“ I thought you would never work in the mill 
again,” said Orne. 

“ It seems to me best that I should,” she an- 
swered. “ I must stay here. I have been here 
too long to go back to the old place and settle 
down quietly. I could no more do it than you 
could go back to your father’s. I must keep a 
home for others as well as myself ; and I am so 
accustomed to my work in the mill that it is 
not hard for me to earn what wages I please.” 

“ More than any other woman there ?” 

“Yes, my name has stood first on the pay-roll 
since the second year I was here,” said Susan 
Slader, with a faint smile which was almost sad ; 
adding quickly : “ One could hardly believe 
what a difference there is in the wages of the 
girls.” 

“ Some work harder than you without earn- 
ing half so much. That seems hardly fair.” 

“They are paid for every cut of cloth they 
weave, and I am paid for no more than I weave. 
There is nothing unfair about it.” 

“ What makes the difference ?” 


A New noisiness Finn. 145 

What makes the difference in this world, 
anyway, Orne Mitchell? You know, as well as 
I do, that some people work to advantage and 
some do not. Some never wake up to the 
necessity before them until it is too late. Some 
think there is never any need of hurry, and won- 
der what good it does to be always driving. 
Then there are some poor unfortunates who can- 
not accomplish much, do the best they can. 
They cannot, and I suppose they should be 
pitied rather than blamed. There are girls 
working in the same room with me, who have 
been there for years, without ever doing what I 
should call a fair day’s work.” 

“ Perhaps they are in the wrong place. They 
might do better somewhere else.” 

“ Possibly ; but the man or woman who can- 
not learn to take advantage of work, where 
three-quarters of it is done by machinery, would 
not be likely to accomplish more when all must 
be done by hand. There is a natural difference 
in people. It seems hard ; and I have seen the 
time when I thought it was hard that our neigh- 
bors were better off' than we were. Sometimes 
too, when I look around here and see all these 
girls working from morning till night, while 
the wives and daughters of the mill-owners and 
officers of the company live at ease in their ele- 


10 


146 The Turning of the Wheel. 

gant homes, it seems as though something was 
wrong.” 

The labor question was not then, as now, one 
of the absorbing questions of the time ; but 
since the first division of property and the first 
purchase of labor for hire, there has been to 
many a seeming injustice. Orne Mitchell al- 
ways enjoyed hearing Susan Slader express her 
opinion upon this subject, and therefore con- 
tinued the conversation by asking : 

“ Do you think you would be a better or 
happier woman if your father had been the rich- 
est man in the country ? ” 

“ I presume I should be neither so good nor 
so happy. I don’t know that any one was to 
blame for my being poor. I am sure I never 
blamed my father. He did what he could, and 
he never kept our poverty constantly before us. 
He remembered the mortgage on the farm, but 
he never made a bugbear of it.” 

In that he was wise,” said the young man, 
remembering how his own home-life had been 
embittered. “ If I am poor I will not make 
myself a beggar, by complaining of my poverty. 
If I have all I earn I am not wronged.” 

“ Unless you have a right to higher wages 
than you receive.” 

“That is a point to be considered. So far I 


A New Business Firm. 147 

have been satisfied that I was doing as well as I 
could. I have never felt myself abused by the 
company employing me. If not a cotton mill 
had been built on the Merrimac there would 
have been just as many homes where men and 
women worked. The owners of the mills had 
nothing to do with the circumstances which 
made it necessary for these men and women to 
work. My home was no poorer because some- 
where there was money to build these mills and 
shops. If I can do better elsewhere I am at 
perfect liberty to do so.” 

'‘That is what you propose to do.” 

" That is what I wish to do, but if I lack the 
head to plan, or the strength to carry out my 
plans, I shall have no right to blame any one 
for my failure. I shall trust Jim’s judgment 
more than my own. If we differ, and I cannot 
convince him that I am right, I shall yield. He 
is my superior and I know it.” 


CHAPTER XL 


IN THE OLD CANADIAN HOME. 

In her happiness Marian Carroll had not for- 
gotten her mother left in the far-off Canadian 
home, and with whom it was nearly impossible 
to hold any direct communication. 

The poor woman so feared her brutal hus- 
band that she dared not write to her daughter 
lest he should discover the fact. It was only 
from “Dick” that she knew of Marian’s mar- 
riage. From him also she learned that the 
money to which the cousins were entitled had 
been received ; and despite all she had suffered 
she rejoiced in their good fortune. 

This fortune they were anxious to share with 
her in such a way as to make her life more tol- 
erable, but circumstances made this impractica- 
ble. She must live on, bearing her lot as best 
she could, thankful that her daughter had no 
more to suffer at the hands of a cruel step-father. 
The promise that she would go to this daughter, 
if it was ever possible for her to do so, was the 
only concession she could be induced to make. 

(148) 


In the Old Canadian Home, 149 

Don’t talk any more about it,” she said to 
Dick, who urged her to go at once, offering to 
accompany her until she should meet “Jim.” 
“You don’t know how hard it is forme to stay, 
but I cannot go. Tell Marian and James not 
to try to see me, either. It would only make 
things worse for me and do no good. I have 
borne so much I can bear the rest, if they don’t 
interfere.” 

Marian could imagine how it had been with 
her mother, after she had left with the papers 
which had been so carefully concealed. James 
Carroll would have gone at once to his mother- 
in-law, and appealed to the law for her release 
from the man who made her life one prolonged 
torture ; but the law would give no redress. 
She was at the mercy of her husband, who was 
a slave to strong drink. 

At last, however, there came a time when 
Dick ceased to write, and after repeatedly ad- 
dressing him in vain, James Carroll determined 
to visit the old home. When there, treading 
familiar paths and noting familiar landmarks, he 
found himself so changed, it was no wonder that 
others failed to recognize him. 

“Jim Carroll, is it !” exclaimed an old wom- 
an, with a strong English accent. “Jim Car- 
roll, is it ! ” she repeated. “ I mind me when ye 


150 The Turning of the Wheel. 

was but a green lad, slaving and starving, and 
walking every Sunday across the fields to see 
yer poor, lame cousin, who loved the ground 
under yer feet. She is yer wife, now, and by 
that token she is a happy woman.” 

“ I mind me, too, of the bread you gave me 
more than once, when I stopped for a drink of 
water from your well,” replied the visitor. “ I 
sorely needed the bread too.” 

Sure and ye did, and I pitied ye. But I 
was that poor meself I had little to give. Tm 
thinking ye don’t need such poor crusts now.” 

“ I have enough and to spare for myself and 
my friends. I could only thank you for the 
bread when I ate it. I can pay you for it now.” 

“ I did not give it for pay,” said the poor 
woman, looking in a dazed way at the money 
placed in her hand. “Ye were more than wel- 
come.” 

“ You are more than welcome to what I have 
given you,” responded James Carroll. “ If it 
helps you as much as your bread helped me, I 
am thankful.” 

“ Sure ye’re a good man, and yer wife is a 
blessed woman.” 

“ What of my wife’s mother ? Can you tell 
me about her ? ” 

“ I can tell ye nothing for six months. She 


Ifi the Old Canadian Home. 15 1 

went away with the old man, and Fm hoping 
she is dead. She’ll never get clear of Grove till 
she is, and he killing her by inches.” 

“ Where did they go ?” 

Somewhere in the woods, Dick said, and 
soon after they were gone he went too. I don’t 
know where he is now, and it won’t matter, un- 
less he lets the drink alone. He always liked a 
drop, but it grew worse with him ; and Fm 
thinking Grove was at the bottom of it all, 
’though he didn’t show his hand.” 

“ I must find Marian’s mother.” 

“ I hope ye will, and find Dick too ; and 
mind ye, Jim Carroll, don’t ye forget what he 
did for Marian, when there was never another 
to stand her friend.” 

“ May God forget me, if I ever forget one 
who has shown kindness to me or mine,” was 
responded reverently. “ Who can tell me more 
of Dick?” 

“None but his mother, and Fm not sure of 
her. She is praying for him that he may come 
home. Ye’ll find her where ye left her, ’though 
the house is like to tumble about her ears. Her 
man went to the bad before, he died, and Dick 
was growing like him. It is many a time the 
old mother has gone hungry. It is the cursed 
drink takes the bread from our mouths; and 


152 The Turning of the Wheel, 

they say Grove is selling it and driving his wife 
to pour it for them that buy ; ’though she hates 
it, as well she may.” 

James Carroll went to the cottage, scarcely 
more than a hovel, where he found Dick’s 
mother, who told him what he had before heard, 
except that she said nothing of her poverty. 

It is Grove’s doings, my boy being what he 
is,” she said with a sigh. “ After he helped 
Marian off. Grove spited him, and set others to 
give him the drink ; and Grove’s wife was that 
frightened of the old man she daren’t speak a 
word of warning. O, Jim Carroll, ye may be 
rich and grand, but my boy has done ye favors, 
and glad he was to do them too ; and if ye could 
find him and bring him back to me I’d bless ye 
till my dying day.” 

“ I will find him if I can,” was replied. 
“ What of Mrs. Grove ?” 

“ Bad enough ; so bad it’s a wonder if she’s 
not beyond the wretch, and never a chance to 
breathe without him at her elbow. But she 
told Dick she could bear it, as long as Marian 
was safe with you. Are you going to find 
her ? ” 

“ I shall find her if she is alive.” 

“ May God help you and help my boy too.” 

It was late in the afternoon of the followins' 


In the Old Canadian Home. 153 

day when James Carroll reached the settlement 
where he had reason to believe Grove might be 
found. It was a small hamlet of log-houses, 
occupied by the families of men engaged in 
lumbering. Apart from the other houses was 
one decorated by a rude sign, notifying those 
who read it, that groceries, tobacco, and liquor 
were there for sale. 

“ If I am not mistaken you will need to go 
no further,” said the man who had been hired 
to drive to this secluded settlement. “ Per- 
haps, however, it may be as well to inquire, and 
so make sure.” 

In answer to questions asked, a young woman 
informed them that Grove kept store in the 
front room of his house, and lived in the back 
room. 

Having told them this, she added in an un 
dertone : 

“ If you have come for him you will need to 
look sharp. His house is barred and bolted 
sioce the men went this morning, and nobody 
knows but his wife is dead. He felled her to 
the floor last night because she wouldn’t deal 
liquor to some boys, and if you have come to 
take him to prison there’s not a woman here but 
will be glad. When the boss comes he’ll have 
the house opened.” 


154 Turning of the Wheel, 

“When will that be?” 

“ Maybe an hour, maybe a week. It is all of 
a piece, here, from boss to boy. My man is 
best of them, but he is going to the bad, and we 
not long married either. But what can be ex- 
pected, with Grove to sell liquor, and the boss 
as drunk as any.” 

The swollen eyes of the speaker showed that 
she had been weeping, and even now she could 
with difficulty control her voice. But no time 
could be spent in discussing the question of 
temperance. 

James Carroll knew that he had to deal with 
a desperate character ; yet he knew also that 
Grove was a coward ; and trusting to this cow- 
ardice and the assistance of his companion, 
whose services had been secured for an indefi- 
nite time, he approached the closed house. 
Once and again he demanded admittance ; then, 
without further delay, forced an entrance. 

Passing through the front room to that be- 
yond he found his wife’s mother alone, resting 
on a miserable bed in one corner of the room. 
So pale and ghastly was her face that at first he 
thought her dead ; but coming closer he saw 
that she breathed, and calling her by the old- 
time name she opened her eyes. 

“ It is Jim, and I have come to take care of 


In the Old Canadian Home. 155 

you/’ he said tenderly. “No one shall ever 
hurt you again. I am able to take care of you, 
and you can trust me.” 

“ Marian ?” whispered the white lips. 

“ She is at home, happy as I can make her, 
and you shall go to her as soon as you are abLe. 
Mother — you are my mother now as well as 
hers — we will do what we can to make up to 
you for what you have suffered.” 

Even while speaking, his heart misgave him 
that he had come too late, and when.no token 
of recognition responded to his words, he sent 
to call the woman who had directed him to the 
house, and who came quickly, ready to do all in 
her power, and sympathizing deeply with the 
sufferer. 

By the use of such simple restoratives as 
could be obtained, Mrs. Grove was made as 
comfortable as possible under the circumstances. 
It was dreadful to see her lie there in the 
midst of such surroundings, but she could not 
be moved without danger of shortening the few 
hours of life remaining to her. 

She was able, at length, to ask some questions 
in regard to her daughter, and give some ac- 
count of herself, although careful to avoid all 
reference to her husband. 

“ I was almost worn out and couldn’t bear 


156 The Turning of the Wheel, 

much,’' she said to James Carroll, who supported 
her in his arms, that she might breathe more 
easily. “ It pays for all to have you with me 
now. Don’t leave me again.” 

“ Never, mother ; I will never leave you again 
until I see you in a place of safety.” 

“It won’t be for long you will need to stay. 
I used to be afraid of dying, but the fear is all 
gone, and I am ready. I shall soon be gone, 
but there is Dick, and I want you to save him. 
Somebody is trying to drag him down, but don’t 
let him go.” 

“ I will do my best for him.” 

“ I knew you would. This is Dick’s wife, 
and she will help you,” said Mrs. Grove, point- 
ing to the woman, who now came closer to her, 
asking : 

“ Is this Jim Carroll I have heard my man 
talk so much about ? ” 

“Jim Carroll, at your service,” was replied. 

“Then he will be saved: I know he will. 
He never can go against you.” 

There was no time for further consideration 
of Dick. Mrs. Grove engrossed the attention 
of those who were with her, and indeed of the 
entire settlement ; the women gathering in 
groups, to discuss the probability of her death, 
and express their abhorrence of her husband. 


In the Old Canadian Home. 157 

There was no physician within many miles ; and 
it was soon apparent that here was a case medi- 
cal skill could not reach. 

The afternoon waned, and at evening the men 
came home from their work ; some with coarse 
jokes and laughter upon their lips, and some 
with curses ; but presently all this was hushed. 
Mrs. Grove was dying, and in the eyes of those 
who knew most of what had transpired, her hus- 
band was a murderer. No one had seen him 
during the day, and no one cared to search for 
him. 

“ I have done all I could for you, James, and 
for my sake you will leave him to go free,” 
gasped the dying woman, whose breath came 
quick and short. 

“ Yes, mother, he may go free,” was answered. 
“ I have no wish to injure him.” 

“ Marian is safe. He can never trouble her.” 

“Never, mother; she is safe and happy.” 

“ Don’t tell her. I made a mistake, but when 
she was gone I could bear it. Can you pray ? 
Pray for me. Pray for us all, and save Dick.” 

James Carroll did not hesitate. He was ac- 
customed to pray, and he had faith that God 
would hear and answer his petitions. Those 
who had come near to the house came still 
nearer as they heard the voice of prayer; the 


158 Tlhc Turning of the Wheel. 

men standing with uncovered heads ; while 
many of the women, moved by feelings alto- 
gether new to them, wept unrestrainedly. 

Dick Lombard stood as if spellbound. He 
knew who was speaking. He could not be mis- 
taken ; and between the desire to see his old 
friend, and shame at his own conduct, he wished 
himself anywhere else rather than there. He 
could not move until the prayer was ended, 
when his wife came out, and seeing him sprang 
to his side, saying in a choked voice : 

“ It is Jim Carroll, and I know you will heed 
him. Mrs. Grove, poor woman, is just gone. 
O, Dick, will you ever be treating me as her 
man treated her ? ” 

“Never, girl, never,” he replied earnestly. 

“Then give up the drink. You men care 
more for it than for wives and children. I 
hate it, and if I had thought, before we were 
married, as I think now, I would never have 
trusted you. I couldn’t. But it is Jim Carroll 
in there, and ” 

She could say no more; and remembering 
that she might be needed, she turned back to 
the dismal room, where, kneeling by the dead 
woman, his face covered with his hands, and his 
whole frame convulsed with emotion, was the 
man to whom she looked for much-needed help. 


In the Old Canadian HoTke. 159 

Going out softly she joined her husband, re- 
porting what she had seen. 

“And to think there was somebody loved 
Mrs. Grove like that, and she killed by the old 
wretch ! ” 

“Jim’s heart was always full of love,” answered 
Dick to this exclamation of his wife. “ For all 
the hard times he had, he was loving and good.” 

“And you will heed him, won’t you ? If he 
will stand your friend, there will be nothing 
hard for you.” 

An hour elapsed before James Carroll ap- 
peared ; when, after consulting with the man 
who had driven with him to the settlement, he 
went in search of Dick Lombard, whom he 
grasped warmly by the hand ; both, for the mo- 
ment, too much moved to speak. 

“You have helped me many times; will you 
help me again ? ” was asked at length. 

“ Indeed I will, with the best there is of me,” 
was replied. 

“ Will you go with me to the old home, and 
to your mother ? ” 

“Aye, Jim ; I will. When I heard you pray, 
the wickedness of my life all came over me, 
and I said to myself : ‘No wonder it has gone 
well with Jim, and he having such a hold on 
God.’ I wish I had it.” 


i6o The Tu7'ning of the Wheel. 

You can have it. The price of it is all paid 
for you, as it was for me. Remember that, 
Dick. I have promised to try and save you, 
but Christ died to save both you and me.” 

Poor Dick could make no reply to this, and 
he was glad when another subject claimed at- 
tention. Preparations were made for removing 
the body of the dead woman, and in the early 
dawn the little procession moved slowly along 
the lonely road. 

They did not dream that they were watched ; 
but peering through a thick covert of leaves, 
was a man with wild staring eyes ; scarce daring 
to breathe lest he might be heard ; yet held to 
the spot by a fascination he could not resist, 
while rage and fear struggled for the mastery in 
his breast. 

He recognized James Carroll, whom he hated 
with a deadly hatred ; hating Dick Lombard 
hardly less. It was the body of his wife they 
were taking away. He knew this without being 
told. He had not intended to inflict a murder- 
ous blow ; but he had been drinking heavily, 
and she had refused to do his bidding. For 
murder, the law would hold him to account, 
and he feared the punishment which might be 
meted out to him. But he was left to his 
own punishment. Months after his body was 


I7t the Old Canadian Home. 


i6i 


found in a remote part of the forest, and hastily 
buried. 

Mrs. Grove was laid in the church-yard by 
the father of her child, where now a chaste 
monument marks the last resting-place of the 
Gresham family. Thus did James Carroll ful- 
fil his last duty to those who had preceded him. 






II 


CHAPTER XII. 


SAM Mitchell’s guardian. 

Four hands. That was the number employed, 
until they failed to meet the demand made upon 
them. Th^i^ another pair was added ; then an- 
other, and still another, keeping pace with the 
demand. 

“We never knew, until you came here, how 
much we needed a machinist,” remarked one 
who had been longest in the village. “ I be- 
lieve the supply creates the demand. We used 
to tinker up some things for ourselves ; not 
half doing them, and spending more time than 
they were worth. I am glad you have come. 
We want all the trades represented here, and 
we have water-power enough to do a vast 
amount of business. I hope you are doing as 
well as you expected.” 

“We have done better than we expected,” 
answered James Carroll. “The trouble, now, 
seems to be the want of dwelling - houses. I 
think we must build some another year.” 

“ The men ought to build their own houses.” 

(162) 


Sam Mitcheir s Guardian, 163 

But they have no money. They can neither 
build nor buy.” 

“ Perhaps not just now. But the sooner they 
can live in their own houses the better. I 
earned every dollar I had when I came here ; 
earned it, too, by right down hard work and 
long days ; longer days than my men make.” 

“ Then they were too long.” 

“ They were long enough. One thing about 
it : when I got through with my work, I was 
too tired to get into much mischief.” 

“ Or to read much either.” 

Exactly. I never did read much. Never 
had much learning, anyway, but I have managed 
to pick up enough so I can do what business I 
want to, and that answers for me. Folks say 
you and Mitchell are great readers, and some- 
body said you two had m_ore books in your house 
than there are in all the rest of the village. 
When did you ever find time to read them ?” 

“ Evenings mostly. I have wished I had 
more time to read, but I have done the best 
with what I had.” 

The job of work for which the man waited 
being finished, he left the shop, and James Car- 
roll turned to another. Always busy, and al- 
ways planning for the future, time passed quick- 
ly with our machinists. 


164 The Turning of the Wheel. 

They enlarged their shop and made arrange- 
ments for the manufacture of agricultural tools. 
By close calculations, they found they could 
furnish these at less prices than were then paid ; 
and if they could, why should they not ? 

A comparatively large outlay would be re- 
quired. There must be a foundry and a store- 
house. More capital must be invested, more 
men employed, and more responsibility assumed. 
Of course, the elder partner must furnish most 
of the extra capital. In the first place, Orne 
Mitchell had contributed his entire savings. ^ He 
now added what remained of his share of the 
profits after deducting his current expenses. 
Having commenced with the least possible out- 
lay necessary to their experiment, the partners 
had thus far shared equally. Now labor would 
compete with capital, and the latter would have 
an advantage. 

There was a plain, recorded contract, binding 
each to certain conditions, and never for a 
moment did Orne Mitchell consider himself 
wronged by these conditions. In the still fur- 
ther enlargement of their business which must 
necessarily follow, should they prove successful, 
there would be ample opportunity for him to 
add to his share of the working capital. 

Houses must be built, and here was an op- 


Sam Mitchell' s Guardian. 165 

portunity for Sam Mitchell, who wished to learn 
the carpenter’s trade, and commence as soon as 
possible. His father, having gained wisdom by 
experience, made no objection to his leaving 
home. 

What the boy will do none of us can tell,” 
wrote the father to his oldest son. ‘‘ He will 
need close looking after, and I shall expect you 
to keep him where he belongs. Don’t let him 
out of your sight more than you are obliged to. 
When he gets so he can build a house as it 
ought to be, I want him to come home, and 
stay long enough to build one for Ruel on the 
knoll. Things look as though there would be 
one wanted by that time, and the old farm can 
afford it.” 

Although not boarding with James Carroll, 
his partner occupied a room in his house, and 
spent nearly as much time there as if he had 
not taken his meals elsewhere. This room was 
now to be shared with the brother, who was in 
hilarious spirits at finding himself “ out of sight 
of the Mitchell chimney.” 

Mentally, he had already appropriated more 
money than he could earn in the next five years. 
He would be a rich man. He never doubted 
that. He could see no reason why everybody 
might not be rich. He was willing to work, 


1 66 The Ttir7iing of the Wheel. 

and he intended to work, but he proposed to 
have some fun as he went along. 

There were young men of his own age in the 
village who welcomed him cordially ; more cor- 
dially than his brother desired. They were not 
thoroughly bad ; yet they indulged in some 
habits Orne Mitchell thoroughly despised. As 
they met in the evening, they assumed a swag- 
gering air of independence which was simply 
ridiculous. They smoked and chewed ; inter- 
larding their conversation with phrases and ex- 
pletives which but made more apparent their 
want of intelligence. 

Before leaving home, Sam Mitchell had se- 
cretly learned to use tobacco. He reasoned 
that every man, except Orne, used it, and of 
course he must follow the fashion. At the 
same time he resolved not to be ridiculed while 
accustoming himself to the nauseous weed ; so 
with perseverance worthy of a better cause, he 
accomplished his purpose. Orne was not long 
in discovering that his brother needed “sharp 
looking after,” and proceeded to assert his au- 
thority. 

“No more of that,” he said sternly, as they 
were walking to their boarding-place, the week 
after Sam had joined him. “ Out with that 
tobacco, and let me see no more of it. I have 


Sam Mitcheir s Guardian, 167 

no money to waste on such stuff ; neither have 
you.” 

Sam looked up, caught the expression of the 
speaker’s face, and obeyed. When supper was 
over, Orne said, “ Come, Sam,” and instead of 
joining the young men who waited for him, he 
went to Mr. Carroll’s. 

His brother had seemed to him almost a 
stranger ; but before the close of the evening, 
he had a clear understanding of what he might 
expect from his self-appointed guardian. One 
sentence in his father’s letter was this guardian’s 
reliance. Mr. Mitchell had written : 

‘‘You can trust Sam’s word. If he will 
give you a promise, he will keep it at all haz- 
ards.” 

This was one reason why it required so much 
of argument and persuasion to win from him a 
pledge to abandon certain habits with which his 
brother charged him. While this was pending, 
he made an impatient remark about being able 
to take care of himself. 

“ Then do it,” responded his brother. “ If 
you don’t need assistance or advice from me, I 
have no desire to force either upon you. For 
my part, I have needed both. Sam, do you 
want me to throw you off and leave you to shirk 
for yourself ? ” 


1 68 The Turning of the Wheel, 

‘‘ No,” answered the younger man with a half 
stifled sob. But I thought ” 

“No matter what you thought. I know, and 
I love you.” 

This completed the work. The desired prom- 
ise was given, and Sam Mitchell was saved to 
purity and true manliness. With the ridicule 
he encountered my story has nothing to do. 
That he stood firm under its infliction made him 
worthy to be remembered and his history re- 
corded. A few weeks later, when his twin sis- 
ter visited him, he was thankful he had cut 
loose from companions who were in no way 
worthy of her notice. 

“ I declare, Sallie, you are growing hand- 
some,” he exclaimed when first they met. 
“ Aunt Dolly used to say I had all the beauty 
there was for us both, but you are getting your 
share. Spending money, instead of earning it, 
are you ? ” 

“ I am laying it up in my head,” she answered. 
“ I have no ambition to be rich, like Susan 
Slader.” 

“ Rich ! I hope you don’t call anybody rich 
who has no more than she has.” 

“ That depends on circumstances. She is in- 
dependent. She says she only works enough to 
keep her healthy and happy.” 


Sam Mitcheirs Guardian. 169 

Well, I suppose that is about as rich as any- 
body needs to be, but I intend to be richer. I 
should like to see that woman once more. I 
have heard about her almost ever since I can re- 
member ; and only seen her when I was too full 
of mischief to look at her. Seems to me she 
must be about the smartest of anybody. That 
is what Orne says, and why in the world he 
don’t marry her is more than I can understand. 
What if she is older than he ? He is steady 
enough and old enough for anybody, and I 
think it would be a first-rate match.” 

‘‘ I don’t believe he ever thought of such a 
thing,” said Sarah. 

“ Why hasn’t he ? That is what I should like 
to know. It is time he was married and settled 
down in a home of his own. I guess I better 
tell him so. Why don’t you come out here and 
keep house for us?” 

“ Orne never asked me to come.” 

“ Well, he is boss, and if he hasn’t asked you, 
it is because he didn’t think it was best. Are 
you much acquainted with him ?” 

Of course I am ; he is my brother.” 

“And as good a brother as ever a sister had. 
But you don’t know half what he is, unless you 
hear him and Jim talk, as they do in the even- 
ings at home. Tell you what, as Aunt Dolly 


170 The Turning of the Wheel. 

says, he is one of a thousand ; clear-grained, 
sound wood, every inch of him. Didn’t he put 
me through, when I first came here ! Made me 
wish I could crawl through a knot-hole, out o^ 
sight, and made me cry like a baby too. Father 
couldn’t do that. I suppose Orne could make 
me cry again ; but he won’t get a chance, as 
long as I have my senses.” 

“Which is the better; Orne, or Jim Car- 
roll?” 

“ They are both good enough, but they are as 
different as can be. Jim is like a father to every- 
body, and he acts as though he wanted every- 
body to love him. There are not many men 
who treat their wives as he does his. He just 
helps her live every day.” 

The most elaborate description of James Car- 
roll’s tenderness could not exceed this. True it 
was, that, each day, he helped his wife to live. 
When with him, she drew life and health from 
his abounding vitality, which always giving, was 
never impoverished. She had once told him 
she feared he would tire of her, when he replied 
in such a manner, that she never afterward ex- 
pressed a doubt of his enduring love. 

He talked to her of his business, and she re- 
joiced in his prosperity ; rejoicing scarcely less 
for his partner, who, next to her husband, was 


Sam Mitchell's Guardian. 171 

her dearest earthly friend. She shared with 
many the friendship of this man, but she held 
her own place in his heart secure from all intru- 
sion. 

Those who had known Orne Mitchell as a 
boy were interested in his career: watching him 
closely to see in what manner he acquitted him- 
self under varied conditions of life. But no 
one was more interested than Richard Tolman, 
who on returning from a visit to the old home- 
stead called upon the young man. 

“ I told your father I would come this way 
and see how you were getting along,” he said 
cordially. 

'' I am very glad to see you,” was replied. It 
was kind in you to take so much trouble.” 

It was no trouble. It will make but few 
hours difference in my reaching home, and Per- 
cy is looking after things there. I wish you had 
come our way and set up business. I don’t know 
as you would have done any better, there, than 
you will here, but we are glad to have honest, en- 
terprising young men about us.” 

“Thank you. This was my partner’s choice, 
and as he had most of the money, he was the one 
to choose our location. I had what I saved of 
my earnings, while he had inherited several thou- 
sand dollars. I get my share of the profits, and 


172 The Turning of the Wheel, 

that gives me more than I could earn else- 
where.” 

Then you are satisfied.” 

‘^Yes, sir.” 

Their meeting took place in the small count- 
ing-room to which Mr. Tolman had been di- 
rected, and where James Carroll presently ap- 
peared, receiving a cordial introduction to the 
gentleman whose name was already familiar. 

I wish I had known you both before you 
came here,” said this gentleman after a thorough 
inspection of shop and foundry. “We want 
such an establishment with us, and we want the 
right kind of men at the head of it ; temperate, 
God-fearing, church-going men, who will care 
for the interests of all concerned. My friend 
Mitchell comes of good stock, and I have no 
doubt his partner does. I suppose it is too late 
to make any business proposals to either, or 
both of you.” 

“I think it is,” was responded. “We have 
every reason to expect success where we are, 
and we have all the facilities we can improve.” 

In the way of business, nothing was gained 
by this visit, but to Orne Mitchell it was a 
marked event of his life. It was two years since 
he had seen -Jennie Tolman, and in that time 
he had seldom heard her name ; yet there was 


Sam MitcheWs Guardian, 173 

never a day when he did not think of her. He 
loved her with all the strength of his nature ; 
hopelessly, it might be, as he often reminded 
himself — and in every dream of the future her 
image appeared. 

Before her father left, he found words to say 
what was uppermost in his mind. In a manly, 
straightforward way he told of his love for Jen- 
nie ; and asked if it would be possible to win 
her love in return. 

“ I cannot tell you that,” answered Mr. Tol- 
man frankly. “ She is so particular about men, 
that we call her the old maid of the family. 
Percy says she asks more than she has a right 
to expect, but she says she asks no more than 
she would be expected to give. She has a 
stronger will than any other of my children, 
and she has been used to tenderness and con- 
sideration. It would be infinitely better for her 
to die, than to fall into the hands of a cold- 
hearted, unkind man.” 

All this was said with the speaker’s gaze fixed 
upon the face of his companion. Then he 
waited for a response, which was made .with 
great effort. 

“ I understand you, Mr. Tolman. I know 
you are a different man in your family, from 
what my father has ever been in his. The first 


1 74 The Turning of the Wheel. 

time I saw you with your children, I envied 
them. I am not sure that I deserve such a wife 
as your daughter would be, but I am sure she 
would never have reason to complain of cold- 
ness or unkindness from me. I am a poor man. 
I cannot offer her much in the way of an ele- 
gant home ; but I can give her the love of a 
true heart, and the best my hands can earn for 
her.” 

Then I hope you will win her, my friend. 
She will never refuse you because you are poor. 
She is too sensible for that. If money would 
buy her, she would have sold herself long ago. 
I think I cannot be mistaken in you, Orne 
Mitchell. I shall be glad to see you at my 
house.” 

“ Whew ! ” ejaculated Sam, who had overheard 
this last remark. “ So that is it. That is the 
reason you don’t care for girls in general. Well, 
old fellow, you are good enough for any Tolman 
girl I ever heard of.” 

Three months later, when his brother made 
preparations for a journey, he did not need to 
be told where or why Orne was going, and 
absence beyond the time appointed for return 
was to him a sure proof that the wooing sped 
happily. 

A yeai would elapse before the bride would 


Sa 7 n MitchelVs Guardian, 175 

be brought home, but she was coming, with all 
her beauty, culture, and sweet womanly graces. 
She would be unlike most of those around her. 
She had never earned for herself so much as a 
single article of dress. Whatever would con- 
duce to her happiness or to her best good had 
been lavished upon her by those who counted 
themselves privileged in so doing. 

If Orne Mitchell had any misgivings, as he 
asked this girl to be his wife, he surely did not 
deceive her in regard to himself or his prospects. 

“ If my love and devotion can make you 
happy, you shall have nothing to regret,” he 
said to her tenderly ; and she, requiring no 
more, did not doubt him. 

“ I shall be your way in the spring, and we 
will talk about building a house then,” remarked 
Mr. Tolman to the young man, who enjoyed his 
entire confidence. “ Don’t do anything about 
it until I see you.” 

“No, sir; I will not,” replied Orne, and the 
winter passed without any apparent change in 
his arrangements. 

In the early spring, Mr. Tolman again visited 
the thriving village ; purchased the most desir- 
able building lot then for sale, and contracted 
for the erection of a spacious house according 
to a specified plan. 


1 76 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

'‘There is a chance for great improvement 
here,” he said to James Carroll. “You might 
employ more capital to good advantage.” 

“Yes, sir; we intend to enlarge as soon as 
we can,” was replied. “We are working our 
way. I have invested every dollar I am worth, 
and so has Mitchell. He turns in his share of 
the profits, except what it costs him to live, and 
so do I. Then we earn more with our hands 
than any other three men on the premises. We 
make long days.” 

“You cannot always do that, Mr. Carroll. 
Y ou will be obliged to give your whole atten- 
tion to a general oversight of your, business ; 
keeping accounts, and writing letters. Y ou must 
have a good deal of that to do now.” 

“ Yes, sir ; Mitchell does most of the writinpf ; 
and sometimes works more hours than I do on 
that account.” 

“ You seem to be well agreed.” 

“Yes, sir; and why should we not be? We 
are working for each other, as well as each for 
himself. Mitchell was the first one of the men 
who gave me an encouraging word, when I 
went into the shop where we both learned our 
trade. I was awkward and ignorant, and as 
poor as a beggar, except for the work I could 
do. He stood my friend when I needed one 


Sam Mitcheir s Gtiardia^i. 177 

most. He has told me that he expects to marry 
your daughter.” 

“ That is the understanding.” 

Well, sir, he says she is better than he is ; 
but however good she is, Orne Mitchell is 
worthy to be her husband. If I was a woman, 
I don’t think I should ask anything more to 
make me happy, than to have him love me as I 
know he loves your daughter. I am a stranger 
to her, but I wish you would tell her, for me, 
that she ought to be the happiest woman in the 
world.” 

“ I will tell her, Mr. Carroll, and I think she 
will not regard the message as coming from a 
stranger. If I am not mistaken, she considers 
herself quite well acquainted with you.” 

“Then she knows me for a man who has 
seen the rough side of life. After my mother 
died, with the exception of my cousin, who is 
now my wife, Orne Mitchell was the first person 
whose love I felt sure of ; and my mother died 
when I was twelve years old.” 

“ Then there is a great deal to be made up to 
you somewhere in life.” 

“ I don’t know about that, sir, I only know 
I have a great deal to be thankful for. I can 
help others, and that I count an especial bless- 
ing.” 


1 78 The Tur 7 iing of the Wheel, 

f 

“ You have an orderly community here.” 

‘‘Yes, sir, we have. So far, we have man- 
aged to protect ourselves against rum-sellers. 
At any rate, they dare not show themselves 
openly. We never employ a man in any capac- 
ity who uses liquor. Our workmen are all 
pledged to total abstinence. We insist upon 
that, and our example has been generally fol- 
lowed by other employers. 

“ We are pretty well up on temperance, but I 
am not satisfied with our religious privileges. 
We have a good minister, but he seems to lack 
the power of adapting himself to different 
classes of people. He preaches the truth, but 
he does not bring the truth home to each in- 
dividual heart. The young people are not in- 
terested. Mitchell has a large Bible-class of 
young men, and it is my belief he preaches 
more religion to them in a month, than the 
minister does in a year. He told me that your 
daughter is a Christian.” 

“ I believe she is. She does a great deal iff 
pur little church. She plays the organ, to lead 
the singing, and she has a class in Sunday- 
school.” 

“ Then she is just the one to come here. We 
need her help.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


CONTRASTED LIVES. 

The house on the hill was completed; the 
land belonging to it fenced, and the various 
accumulations incident to building ‘removed. 
“ The finest house in the village,” said all who 
looked upon it ; some with feelings of envy, 
and some with hearty congratulations for him 
who was to occupy it. 

“ It will take money to keep that house 
going,” remarked one of a group engaged in 
discussing its merits. 

“Yes; a good deal of it,” said another. “It 
would be better for Mitchell to have a thou- 
sand dollars to put into his business, and then 
live in a small way, like the rest of us. But 
folks who have money can do as they please ; 
and folks who haven’t money must do as they 
can. That is the whole story.” 

“ Folks ought to do what is best, all things 
considered, whether they have money or not.” 

This last remark was made by a man who had 
recently come to the village and was employed 

(179) 


i8o The Turning of the Wheel, 

by Carroll & Mitchell. He had worked in 
the shop where they learned their trade, and 
preferred to cast in his lot with them, rather 
than remain in the old place. He was about 
fifty years of age ; a sober, sedate man of good 
ability and judgment. He had saved something 
from his earnings, and here seemed a good op- 
portunity to invest his small fortune for the 
benefit of himself and his family. He held the 
title to two acres of land, within easy distance 
of the shop, and intended, the next year, to 
build a substantial, commodious house. 

“ What folks ought to do is one thing, and 
what folks do is another thing,” replied the man 
who had summarily settled the matter of will 
and choice. “ If I had money, I could do as I 
please ; I know I could. Give me the money, 
and I will prove it to you.” 

‘'You will have some money next pay-day.” 

“ How much? Just about enough to pay my 
rent and provision bills, and buy something for 
the woman and children. That is the way my 
money goes, unless there is a job of sickness, 
and then there is a doctors bill to pay. It is 
all work and no play for some of us ; and it 
goes against the grain, to see such houses as 
that on the hill, when we have to live in a six 
by nine box.” 


Contrasted Lives. 


i8i 

Six by nine ! That is a pretty snug box for 
such a family as yours. I have always been 
able to do better than that, and I started as 
poor as anybody. I had no such wages as 
young men have now, either. I am glad Mitch- 
ell has such a good house, and I wish Carroll 
had one to match it. There is another knoll, 
just right for a building lot.” 

“ Why didn’t you buy it ? ” 

“Mr. Tolman got ahead of me; and if he 
hadn’t, my lot is the best for me. So I am 
satisfied.” 

“Well, Orne, that job is done,” Sam Mitchell 
was saying that same evening. “ Next year, I 
shall be carpenter enough to build a house for 
Ruel ; and after that, my turn will come some- 
time along. I mean to have a house for my- 
self. I suppose you are ready to slip the lead- 
ing-strings and let me go.” 

“ It is so long since I have seen the strings, I 
think I must have lost them,” Orne replied. 

“You may not have seen them, but I have 
felt them pull once in a while. They have never 
pulled very hard, since I first came here, and then 
I needed to be brought up with a round turn. 
You never did a better deed than you did then. 
I was booked for the devil unless somebody 
rut)bed out my name.” 


1 82 The Turning of the WheeL 

'' I knew that, Sam, but I have not felt much 
anxiety about you, since you gave me your word 
that you would do differently.” 

“ I have kept it, too, honor bright.” 

“ I expected you would. How much have 
you gained by it ?” 

“ Nearly all there is for a man worth gaining. 
I am much obliged to you for taking me in hand, 
and putting me through in a general way,” said 
the younger brother, with a half serious, half 
comical smile upon his handsome face. What 
had I better do with myself ? ” he asked, soon 
after, rousing his brother from a revery which 
must have been pleasant, “Jim and his wife 
won’t want me around, after you go away, and 
I guess I may as well take up my quarters at 
Mrs. Conrad’s. Ned is a tip-top fellow, and my 
board will help along. They are poor enough 
to need it too.” 

“ Yes, and it would be a good place for you 
if ” 

To fully explain the possible objection to this 
arrangement would require too much space ; 
but Orne Mitchell stated it in few words, be- 
ing assured, even while speaking, that there was 
no cause for anxiety. 

James Carroll had not realized how much he 
depended upon his partner for intellectual com- 


Contrasted Lives. 183 

panionship, until they were separated. They 
could not meet, every evening, and during the 
day they were too busily employed to talk of 
anything not connected with their business. 

There was a quiet arrival of the newly wedded 
pair, an interchange of calls, and then, as was 
natural, a close gathering of interest around the 
home centre. To the bride, everything was 
new and strange. From having been one of a 
household over which a watchful mother and 
mistress presided, she was herself responsible 
for the comfort and completeness of a home. 

She would not have her husband suspect that 
she was unhappy ; would not even acknowledge 
it to herself ; but the small cares and petty de- 
tails of housekeeping annoyed her. She did not 
regret the choice she had made, yet she was 
fretted and troubled, until it seemed to her she 
did not fit well the place she was expected to 
fill. She struggled against these feelings ; met 
her husband affectionately, and chided herself 
for her shortcomings. 

Her house was all she could desire. She had, 
herself, chosen the furniture with little regard to 
expense. Books, music, and the various adorn- 
ments to which she was accustomed, all were 
here. Her father had purchased for her a more 
expensive piano than she had left, and there was 


184 The Tur 7 ting of the Wheel, 

no reason why she should not enjoy it. But, 
despite all this, her life failed of the happiness 
she desired. 

Coming home unexpectedly, her husband 
found her in tears. A man waited to carry him 
several miles to repair some machinery, requir- 
ing the utmost dispatch on his part ; so that he 
could only stop to express his regret and kiss 
the tear-stained face. It was late in the evening 
when he returned, troubled and anxious. 

He had seen the gathering cloud, and fondly 
fancied that a breath would dissipate it. But it 
had increased in size, and now, if ever, he was 
to prove himself worthy of the trust he had as- 
sumed. His own happiness and the happiness 
of another depended upon him. 

He was physically tired. He had done the 
work of two ordinary men that day, and he 
needed rest ; while his wife knew nothing: of 
such fatigue. He had provided against such a 
possibility, but he did not think of this, as he 
entered the house. He thought only of her he 
had promised to love and cherish. 

He lingered longer than usual in the little 
room adjoining the kitchen, which served him 
as a dressing-room. Here everything was in 
readiness for him, but, as rarely happened, he 
was left to make his toilet alone. As he passed 


Contrasted Lives. 185 

to the dining-room, his wife greeted him with a 
smile and returned his caress; yet could not 
conceal the fact that she was ill at ease. It was 
useless for him to attempt to eat ; and after a 
little he arose from the table. 

“Why, Orne, don’t you like your supper?" 
asked Jennie in a grieved tone; and as she left 
her seat he went to her ; and without answering 
her question, folded her in his arms. 

It did not matter that the fire died out, or 
that the supper was untasted. It would not 
have mattered to these two, had they been a 
thousand miles from any other human being. 
All was explained and comprehended, without 
the utterance of a reproachful word. In truth, 
far more was comprehended than was told. 
Some tears were shed, sacred to the best emo- 
tions of two noble hearts. A renewed plight- 
ing of love and trust crowned the evening ; 
after which the fire was rekindled and another 
supper prepared. 

The next day, Jennie Mitchell went to spend 
the afternoon with Mrs. Carroll, who was then 
a confirmed invalid. For more than a year she 
had been gradually failing, until she was unable 
to leave the house. 

“ The wonder is that she has lived so long,” 
said a physician whom her husband had recently 


1 86 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

consulted. “ She has been kept alive. How 
much longer this can be done, you know better 
than 1. Care may prolong her life ; nothing 
can improve her health.” 

Always painfully conscious of her personal 
defects when with strangers, Mrs. Carroll never 
felt these so keenly as in the presence of Mrs. 
Mitchell ; and this had given to their limited 
intercourse a positive want of cordiality. 

“ I have come to sit with you, if you will 
allow me to stay,” said the visitor, as she opened 
the door at the bidding of the invalid. 

“ I shall be glad to have you stay, but I am 
afraid I shall be poor company,” was replied. 
“ Please lay aside your wraps, and sit down 
where you will be most comfortable. I was 
wishing some one would come in. Sam was in, 
this morning, and he always does me good, It 
was very kind in you to think of coming.” 

A kindness to myself, Mrs. Carroll. Our 
husbands are such good friends, I think we 
ought to be better acquainted.” 

“I know it would seem so, Mrs. Mitchell, 
but our husbands are more alike than we are. 
You could not be expected to enjoy being 
with me as Orne enjoys being with James. 
You are young and handsome, and have al* 
ways had everything to make life pleasant . 


Contrasted Lives. 187 

while I am poor and lame, and have only had 
James.” 

“James is a great deal to have,” responded 
Jennie Mitchell, with her brightest smile. “One 
person cannot expect to have all the good 
things. As for our being unlike, that does not 
follow, as a matter of course, because we are 
not of the same age and complexion. I should 
not wonder at all, if down in the bottom of our 
hearts we are very much alike. Now I wish 
you would call me Jennie, so I shall feel more 
at home with you, and we will see if we have 
not some sympathies in common. Orne says 
you know all about the people here, and can 
tell me how to win their friendship.” 

“Just go to see them, and talk to them as 
you do to me,” said Marian Carroll with beam- 
ing eyes. “ I thought you could not like me 
and ” 

“ There is something wrong, or you would 
not have thought so. Suppose we have a good 
talk all about it, and make up, as we used to 
say at home. I want you to like me, and let 
me like you.” 

How this proposal was received may be in- 
ferred from the fact that when James Carroll 
came home, his wife told him she had spent a 
delightful afternoon. 


1 88 The Ttirmng of the Wheel. 

“Jennie invited me to spend a whole day 
with her, and I wish I could. She is not at all 
like what I thought she was. Orne must be 
very happy with her.’' 

“ He is very happy, as he deserves to be. I 
hope you and his wife will be good friends. 
Some of our people think she is too proud for 
this place. They say Orne should have married 
a woman who could do her own work. Her 
piano is considered an extravagance, and her 
elegant furniture seems to place her above 
them.” 

“ She has a right to it all. Her father paid 
for it, and her husband pays Mrs. Marden. I 
am glad they can have so good a woman with 
them. If I had known of her before Mrs. 
Bond came, I should have liked her, but Mrs. 
Bond does very well. I have wished a great 
many times that we had some sisters or cousins 
to come and stay with us. Strange we should 
be all alone in the world ; but I have you, and 
that makes up for everything to me.” 

For answer to this, James Carroll laid his 
hand caressingly upon the head of his wife, and 
touched his lips to her forehead. It was not 
often that she talked much ; but when she was 
inclined to do so, he gave her his undivided at- 
tention. Not long after, he managed so that, 


Contrasted Lives. 


189 


feeble as she was, she was carried to Orne 
Mitchell’s, where she spent a happy day with 
the young mistress of the house. 

“ How different the world must seem to you 
from what it did to me when I was of your 
age,” she remarked after listening to music 
which had thrilled her whole soul. '' I was 
lamer than I am now, and I had nothing to 
look forward to except James^ visits. He came 
to see me, every Sunday, and I used to save 
half of what I could have to eat, Saturdays, to 
give to him when he came ; and if I had any- 
thing very good, I saved it all for him. Where 
he lived, he didn’t always have enough, and 
sometimes 1 went hungry, myself, so I could 
give more to him ; but he has made it all up to 
me ten thousand times over.” 

“ You were not always so poor.” 

I think there was enough for us to eat while 
my father lived, but I was a child when he died, 
and my mother was married again very soon. 
I lived with James’ mother for a little while ; 
but my mother’s husband wanted her to take 
me home, and she did. I was a good lace- 
maker, and he wanted what I could earn.” 

“ Your mother is dead.” 

“Yes, and it was a great relief to me when I 
knew she was beyond the reach of the man 


TQO The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

who had abused her so long. We wanted her 
to come and live with us, but she thought she 
ought to stay with her husband. James went 
for her at last, but he found her sick, and stayed 
with her until she died. It has always been a 
great comfort to me to know he was with her. 
He would do all for her that could he done.” 

'‘And you had no brothers or sisters?” 

“ I had a baby brother, who only lived a few 
months.” 

“ Life must have been very hard for you.” 

“ It was. I used often to wish I could die, 
and be buried where the flowers would blossom 
on my grave, and the birds sing over it. I don’t 
think it is so bad for a child to be ever so poor, 
as it is not to have any one to love it. James 
and I have said that a great many times ; and 
he says, too, that the worst thing for very poor 
people is that they are fretted and worried until 
they grow surly and wicked.” 

“ It must be hard to be so very poor.” 

“ Yes, and such poor people are apt to feel 
that they are not getting their share of good 
things.” 

“ Do they get their share, Marian?” 

“ It seems, sometimes, as though they didn’t, 
but I don’t know how much their share is. 
There are men in this village who are always 


Contrasted Lives, 19 1 

complaining of their lot, but who earn enough 
to make themselves and their families comfort- 
able, besides saving something for a rainy day.” 

“ I have heard father talk of such men, and 
I have heard Orne say that several who worked 
with him where he learned his trade, are no bet- 
ter off now than when they began.” 

Marian Carroll had a knowledge of poverty 
gained by bitter experience, while her companion 
hard hardly known a wish ungratified ; and there 
was a reason for this difference. The father of 
one was a drunkard, leaving his family to suffer 
privations from which he might have saved 
them ; while the father of the other made the 
most of his opportunities, and gave to his chil- 
dren the best he could command for them. 
Back of all this was choice, providence, and the 
influence of preceding generations. How or 
why life had been so meted out to these friends. 
God only knew. 

The friendship established between them was 
a pleasure not only to themselves, but to their 
husbands. It was also a mutual benefit. Mrs. 
Mitchell needed to learn much in regard to her 
duty to those around her, and Mrs. Carroll 
needed cheerful companionship. 

‘‘ I am glad to see you,” the latter would al- 
ways say in her soft, musical voice, when her 


192 The Turnmg of the Wheel, 

young friend came to visit her. “ I was afraid 
you would not come/’ she half whispered, one 
stormy day in March. “ It is not a fit day for 
you to be out ; but I should have sent for you, 
if it had not been for troubling James. I was 
afraid he would think me worse, and so I am. 
I am almost through with this world.” 

Jennie did not tell her that her husband knew 
this, and that the visit was made at his request. 
She only said : 

“ I thought you might prefer my company to 
Mrs. Bond’s, and I told Orne if I did not call at 
the shop before dark, he might come here for me.” 

Then you will stay. It is hard for me to 
talk, to-day, but it may be my last day. I want 
to see Orne. He has been my good friend.” 

She was very weak and very tired when he 
came with her husband, long before dark, but 
she talked with him ; thanking him for his kind- 
ness, and begging him to have a care for James 
when she was gone. 

Up to this time, not a cent of her property 
had been expended. Her husband held it sa- 
cred, while looking carefully to its investment. 
If he should fail in business, she would not 
suffer from his misfortune. If he should die 
and leave her, she would have ample means to 
provide for herself. 


Contrasted Lives. 


193 


'' Now everything will be yours,” she said, the 
next morning, when some reference had been 
made to this. You have been so good to me ; 
so good to me. It seems as though I can 
hardly be happy in Heaven, without you, but I 
am going.” 

These were her last words ; and reverently, 
tenderly, James Carroll laid down his precious 
burden. In childhood, youth, and manhood ; 
in poverty and comfort ; in adversity and in 
prosperity, she had been his nearest, dearest 
friend. He could not realize what life would 
be without her. When he returned to his home, 
after the funeral rites were over, he seemed to 
be walking in a dream. He worked as mechan- 
ically as the machinery which aided him. 

A great sorrow had fallen upon him, yet he 
seldom talked of it; never except to the one 
friend, who in the hour of his need was more 
to him than ever before. He craved sympathy, 
yet there were few who could give it ; none of 
whom he would ask it. 


13 


CHAPTER XIV. 


SURE TO BE RICH. 

The village was rapidly growing. The firm 
of Carroll & Mitchell was known as represent- 
ing honesty, enterprise, and skilled workman- 
ship. The venture they had made in the manu- 
facture of agricultural implements was eminently 
successful. Orders flowed in upon them, and 
they could enlarge their business to any extent 
which seemed desirable. 

Their workmen were well paid, and many of 
them had secured lots of land, to be improved 
as the necessary means could be afforded. Sam 
Mitchell had become the owner of several acres, 
which others regarded as too poor to be worth 
buying. 

Going to farming ? ” asked one, disposed to 
ridicule the investment. 

‘‘Not this year,” he replied curtly. 

As he told Orne, who heartily approved of 
his purchase, he should not be in a hurry about 
it, but sometime there would be a handsome 
house on the knoll in that old swamp. 

“ Room enough for a house and a garden, 
(194) 


Sure to be Rich. 


195 


without any draining, and these people need 
some practical lessons,” he remarked to his 
brother. “ It was a good thing for me that no 
one else wanted it. I am going home to build 
Ruel’s house, and I guess it would be the right 
thing to do, if we should all take hold together, 
and give Mary a surprise when she moves in. 
She cannot have much to buy furniture with, 
and her mother did not leave much. Mary is a 
good girl, and Ruel is lucky to get her. She is 
lucky, too, isn’t she ? ” 

“ I hope so,” replied Orne. He won’t think 
she ought to live as mother has ; work as hard 
as she can, and do with as little as possible.” 

“ Mother does not do so now.” 

'' No, but that is the way she did when I was 
at home.” 

“ Well, you needn’t worry about Mary. Ruel 
has none too much respect for old ways of living. 
The way he is turnitig up that old farm is a cau- 
tion to slow people. Father doesn’t stand any 
kind of a chance with him. He says we may go 
ahead as fast as we can, and he will have things 
as good as the rest of us. He believes in farm- 
ing, with all his heart.” 

And does it with all his might. It will be 
a good idea to help him and Mary a little. I 
will talk with Kate about it, when I see her.” 


196 The Turning of the Wheel. 

When Sam Mitchell submitted to his father 
a plan of the house he proposed to build for 
Ruel, some objections were made to its size and 
expense. 

“ But Ruel is sure to be a rich man, and we 
must keep that in mind,” said the young me- 
chanic confidently. “ Orne thinks this is just 
the thing. It will look well, and be convenient. 
It won’t cost very much more than a small house, 
either.” 

After these representations, Mr. Mitchell did 
not presume to criticise further ; but Ruel in- 
sisted upon some changes, which it was under- 
stood Mary had suggested. 

Everything being in readiness, there was no 
unnecessary delay. Sam’s reputation was at 
stake, and he did his best. He expected to 
work harder than either of his assistants.. Early 
and late, he was measuring, planing, and ham- 
mering ; his brother watching him with interest, 
and from time to time commending his prog- 
ress. 

“ Tell you what, Sam, this will equal Gransir 
Tolman’s house,” said Aunt Dolly, who took 
time to go up to the new building. “ Mary 
will be pretty well off, when she gets settled 
down here. But I don’t see where the furni- 
ture is coming from, to fill all these rooms. It 


Stire to be Rich, 


197 


won’t make much difference, though, about that. 
Farmers generally live in the kitchen for the 
most part.” 

“ I know they do, and I hate that way,” re- 
sponded Sam, shoving his plane, and throwing 
off the ribbon-like shavings with a rapidity which 
quite fascinated his companion. “ It is no way 
to live, and there is no use in it.” 

‘‘ I don’t know about that It wouldn’t look 
very well for rich folks, but ” 

“ But what. Aunt Dolly ? I don’t know of 
anybody ’round here too poor to open their 
house in summer, and keep two fires going in 
winter ; do you ? ” 

“ I don’t know as I do. We keep our fore- 
room open pretty much now. The girls like to 
have it open, and your father and mother don’t 
say anything against it. I suppose Orne lives 
in great style.” 

“ Nothing very great about it. He lives right 
along with what he has. There is nothing in 
the house too good to use.” 

“ Is his wife a good housekeeper?” 

'' First-rate. Looks bright and handsome 
every day of her life ; and just worships Orne, 
to pay him for worshipping her.” 

‘'Well, she aint any better than Mary Roper, 
and it stands to reason that she can’t be nigh as 


198 The Turning of the Wheel. 


good a housekeeper. They say she has got a 
pianny.” 

‘‘ Yes, and plays on it, too, so it rests a tired 
fellow just to hear her.” 

“ I thought you would board with Orne when 
he got married.” 

“ I didn’t think I should. I didn’t want to, 
and to tell the truth, I don’t think they wanted 
me. When I get married, I sha’n’t want any- 
body ’round but my wife.” 

“Goodness me, Sam Mitchell, you aint mak- 
ing calculations about being married, are you ? 
I should ’most as soon think of the baby being 
married.” 

“ I suppose she will be married sometime. 
She is fourteen years old now ; too old to be 
called a baby. Say, Bess, how do you like that 
name?” 

“ I would as soon be called baby, as anything 
else,” answered the merry girl, throwing herself 
upon a heap of shavings. “ Say, Sam, how long 
are you going to stay at home ? ” 

“Till this house is finished.” 

“How much longer?” 

“ A week and a day. Isn’t that long enough ?” 

“ No ; it will be dreadfully lonesome when you 
are gone.” 

“ Sarah will be at home.” 


Sure to be Rich, 


199 


“ Only a little while. She is going back to 
school. Lizzie and I will be left alone. Ruel 
will be up here, and I am going to the mill to 
work. That is what I am going to do.” 

“Guess not, baby. If the old farm can’t sup- 
port you and Lizzie, we will take up a contri- 
bution for you once a quarter. What do you 
want now ; a pair of stockings, or some false 
curls ? Haven’t seen any the color of your hair, 
but we can have some imported.” 

A merry laugh responded to these words of 
her brother, and a coquettish toss of the shapely 
head threw back a wealth of curls which had 
drooped over the sweet girlish face. Springing 
from her seat, the next moment Bessie was 
gone with a shout and a bound. 

“ Gransir Tolman calls her the darling of the 
family,” said Aunt Dolly; changing position, so 
she could watch this same darling. “She and 
Lizzie aint any more alike than black and 
white ; but they never have any falling out. 
The baby is like your mother.” 

“ In some things she is, but she wouldn’t bear 
what mother has borne. She has a will of her 
own.” 

“You never said anything truer than that, 
Sam Mitchell. The baby has a way of her own 
too, and your father don’t pretend to set up 


200 The Turning of the Wheel, 

much authority over her. She is just like a 
butterfly. I can’t bear to think of her working 
for a living. The farm has done well since 
Ruel took it. The pasture-land he bought, 
back on the mountain, is going to pay for itself 
this year, keeping sheep. Wool is high, and 
there is a good deal to be sold. When Kate 
come after me, to take her place, so she could 
go to the factory, I should as soon thought of 
your father being president, as I should of my 
staying till this time ; but you can’t ever tell 
what is going to happen. It wouldn’t be very 
strange, if some of the Mitchells should get to 
be as well off as Richard Tolman. I suppose 
they are coming here, this summer, and we must 
have things, at our house, as good as they do on 
the hill.” 

This conclusion reached. Aunt Dolly spent 
the remainder of her visit in examining the 
“ new building.” Meeting Ruel on her way 
home, she told him Sam knew a good deal 
more about “j’iner work” than she had “any 
idee of.” 

“ Poor luck ” was an expression then seldom 
used by John Mitchell. Surely, the summer of 
which I am now writing offered no occasion 
for so doing. Kate was at home with her baby — 
the first grandchild — and superintended the ar- 


Sui'e to be Rich, 


201 


rangement of the furniture, which was brought 
from the nearest railroad station. It was not 
easy to accomplish this without Ruel’s knowl- 
edge ; but Sam managed it, and then there was 
the surprise, the grateful thanks, and the gen- 
eral happiness. 

Without regard to the manner in which other 
marriages had been conducted, Ruel and Mary 
were to have an old-fashioned wedding. Richard 
Tolman and his wife, with Percy and Fannie, 
were present. Of course, Jennie was there 
with her husband ; and if Howard could have 
left his books, he would gladly have accepted 
the invitation extended to him. Lizzie and 
Bessie Mitchell were bridesmaids ; the former 
attended by her brother Sam, the latter by 
Percy Tolman. 

The wedding was considered a grand affair, 
and many were the comments made in regard 
to it. As Aunt Dolly had said, long before, 
the wheel of fortune was turning, and the 
Mitchells were coming to the top. 

That Orne Mitchell was on the high-road to 
wealth, no one could doubt. With him and his 
partner, success was merely a matter of hard 
work and good management ; and judging from 
the past, neither of these conditions would be 
wanting in the future. 


202 


The Turning of the Wheel. 

A long vacation could not be afforded ; so it 
was only a week after Ruel’s marriage, when 
Orne left the old home ; Jennie remaining a few 
days longer^ and then going to make prepa- 
rations for the entertainment of her family in 
her own home. She wished them to see her 
new surroundings at their best ; and the praises 
heartily bestowed more than satisfied her. 

Percy considered the village a marvel of 
growth, and James Carroll a wonder of a man. 
Strange as it may seem, these two attracted 
each other strongly ; the younger losing no op- 
portunity for cultivating an acquaintance which 
was a mutual pleasure and profit. Both were 
ambitious ; but the ambition of one had been 
fostered under the most kindly influences, while 
that of the other was the spontaneous out- 
growth of aspirations which could not be re- 
pressed. They met, and parted : each to do his 
chosen work. 

Autumn lapsed into winter, and winter yielded 
to the incoming of spring. In the village ceme- 
tery, a marble shaft marked the grave of Marian 
Gresham ; and on the anniversary of her death, 
a lonely man stood beside it, thinking of the 
life which had been so closely interwoven with 
his own. A well-trodden path bore witness to 
his frequent visits to this spot, yet he was seldom 


Sure to be Rich. 


203 


seen to go there, although Orne Mitchell, from 
whom he concealed nothing, sometimes found 
him there, at a late hour of the night. 

“ I cannot help it,” he said to this friend who 
remonstrated with him. “ I stay in my house, 
alone, until I can endure it no longer, or I stay 
with you until I know I must go home. Then 
I come out, and this shaft seems to beckon me 
here. I don’t know why, but here I feel nearer 
to Marian, and she was all I had.” 

He had no relatives. He never left the village 
except on business. His home-life had con- 
fined him, and now that his home was desolate, 
he did not care to go. Here his partner insisted. 

“ We need to know more, and you are the 
one to gain by travel,” said the latter. “We 
shall do very well without you. Go everywhere 
you wish to, and come back with a new lease 
of life and happiness.” 

At last, these considerations prevailed, and 
once away, the traveller was not inclined to 
hasten his return. He allowed himself much 
needed rest and recreation. Amid strange, but 
congenial scenes, his whole nature expanded. 
He felt that he could do more and better than 
he had ever yet done. 

He visited iron-mills ; talked with their own- 
ers and those who had the work in charge ; 


204 Turning of the Wheel. 

discussed various questions relative to the trade 
in iron, and learned the resources of the country 
for the supply of this trade. He examined the 
latest improvements in machinery ; studied dif- 
ferent plans of working ; and everywhere gained 
some knowledge which would be of advantage 
to him. 

Busied with all this, he did not forget the old 
Canadian home, or Dick Lombard, whom he 
had assisted to purchase a desirable farm ; and 
when he had recovered somewhat of his former 
cheerfulness, his heart moved him to visit the 
scenes of his early life. 

“God bless ye, Jim Carroll, for saving my 
boy,” exclaimed Dick’s mother, after he had 
been cordially welcomed by the entire family. 
“ I am seeing my best days, and all because of 
what ye and Marian did for Dick. He is good 
as good can be, and his wife, mind ye, is the 
right one for him. And the babies ; they are 
the very joy of my life. There’s never a drop 
of the vile drink comes nigh the house, but it 
is all around us. If ye’d speak to the people, 
may be they’d heed ye. It was that made ye a 
bound boy, and leaving it alone made ye what 
ye are.” 

“That is true, Mrs. Lombard.” 

“ And do ye care for the drink, Jim ? They 


Sure to be Rich. 


205 


say the children of drunkards crave liquor as 
their fathers did before them. Is it so with ye ?” 

^ “No, Mrs. Lombard, I am thankful to say it 
is not, but I would not trust myself to taste of 
liquor.” 

“ Ah, do ye think the craving might be with 
ye like a smoldering fire, needing only a touch 
to bring the blaze?” 

“ I do not know, and please God, I never 
shall know,” was replied to this question. 

James Carroll was Dick Lombard’s guest 
over one Sabbath ; and at evening, the people 
living near came together to hear a plain talk 
from one in whose late good fortune all rejoiced. 
The reading of a chapter from the Bible was 
followed by prayer, after which, the great truths 
of temperance and religion were pressed home 
to the hearts of those who listened ; warnings 
and appeals being enforced in such manner that 
all hearts were moved. 

At the close of the simple service, there were 
hearty hand- shakes, with words of sympathy 
and counsel sure to be remembered ; and many 
a “ God bless ye,” the memory of which would 
linger with James Carroll to the latest day of 
his life. 

This visit made, he proposed to go directly 
home ; but passing through the city where he 


2o6 The Tti 7 'ning of the Wheel, 

had formerly worked, he stopped ; and there, for 
the first time since the death of his wife, he met 
Susan Slader. They met cordially, as they had 
always met, and talked of mutual acquaintances 
and of business, as they had always talked. 
Then of Marian. 

You have lost half of yourself,” at last said 
the lady. 

More than that,” he answered, and thus the 
subject was dismissed. 

He made but a short call. There were others 
he wished to see, and his time in the city was 
limited. At parting, he retained the hand of 
his hostess a moment longer than was necessary ; 
but beyond this, he gave no sign that she was 
more to him than a pleasant friend. 

He did not, however, go at once to other 
friends, as he had intended. Some influence 
drew him to the spot, where, eleven years be- 
fore, he had taken counsel with himself and de- 
cided to marry his cousin. The city had been 
growing rapidly, extending its boundaries on 
every side ; yet still, on the bank of the river 
was this secluded nook, where no one would in- 
trude. 

Here he sat down, sadly perplexed and 
troubled. He did not regret the decision here 
made. He had never regretted it, although he 


Sure to be Rich. 


207 


knew he had given more than he received. Not 
more of true affection, for that was impossible ; 
but more of such sympathy as helps one to live 
the grandest life of which he or she is capable, 
and more of the inspiration which idealizes this 
life. 

As he sat there, the perplexed look which his 
face had worn passed gradually away. There 
was neither trouble' nor doubt. He saw the 
possibilities of his future. In his impatience, 
the walk back to the city seemed long. He 
entered the house without giving notice of his 
coming. He had not thought what he should 
say; had not thought that possibly his suit 
might be rejected ; but now, as he stood in the 
presence of the woman he loved, he was so 
moved with conflicting emotions, that he could 
not utter a word. 

''What is it?” asked his friend, surprised at 
his manner. 

" Nothing, only I have something to say to 
you,” he answered with great effort. 

" I shall be glad to hear it,” she responded, 
and here her usual self-possession deserted her. 

" I love you.” 

Only this, as the speaker looked at his com- 
panion, while some look must have made reply ; 
for James Carroll drew her to himself, and held 


2o8 


The Turning of the Wheel. 

her close in his arms. It seemed hardly real to 
her, yet when she would have freed herself from 
his embrace a gentle force detained her. 

“ Tell me that you love me,” he said tenderly. 

“O James, you know I do,” she murmured 
in response. 

“ Then tell me so, dearest. I am waiting to 
hear the words.” 

“ I love you.” 

Not this day, nor the next, did James Carroll 
go to his home, since he must give some time 
to his newly-found happiness. His friends con- 
gratulated him ; Kate saying frankly that she 
had hoped he would marry Susan ; and Orne 
saying the same, when opportunity was given 
for him to express his feelings. Then, too, he 
delivered a letter which had been given into his 
keeping. 

Like a voice from the dead it came to him to 
whom it was addressed, and was read with tears, 
which dropped one by one upon the irregularly 
written words. What these words had cost the 
writer the reader could well imagine. » 

“ Orne will not give this to you unless your 
heart turns to Susan Slader. Then, if she loves 
you — and I know she will — marry her and be 
happy. 

“ Tell her from me that you are the best and 


Sure to be Rich. 


209 


dearest husband ever woman had. She cannot 

love you better than I have loved you, but ” 

Thus closed the letter. The wife could not 
bring herself to say that another might be more 
to her husband than she had been. 


14 


CHAPTER XV. 


A FITTING MARRIAGE. 

During the summer preceding his second 
marriage James Carroll half chided himself for 
his exuberant spirits. Life had never been to 
him so bright as then. The beauty possible to 
his face was fast developing. Jennie Mitchell 
told him he was growing to be a very handsome 
man ; which compliment he received with grace- 
ful acknowledgment. It pleased him to think 
that the expression of his face grew more radi- 
ant, as the house designed for his future home 
approached completion. 

In the autumn it was finished and elegantly 
furnished ; when she whom we have known as 
Susan Slader was installed its mistress. 

Never was there a more fitting marriage. In 
the rich maturity of life, each retained a youth- 
ful enthusiasm of thought and feeling. Not a 
man in all the village but commended the taste 
of the bridegroom ; not a woman but instinct- 
ively recognized the strong, deep nature of the 
bride. 

Mrs. Mitchell had steadily made her way with 
( 210 ) 


21 I 


A Fitting Marriage. 

them, and gained a strong influence over the 
young people around her. If some were in- 
clined to envy her for the advantages she had 
received, her pleasant manners and generous 
kindness soon made them forget their envy. 

Mrs. Carroll was not removed from them by 
the adventitious circumstances of wealth. She 
knew what it was to earn her own living, prac- 
tice small economies, and submit to the inevi- 
table. She could sympathize with those whose 
income scarce sufficed to meet their current 
expenses ; while her very presence inspired the 
weary with new strength and hope. 

It was expected that she would prove a model 
housekeeper, as indeed she was ; but she, too, was 
provided with competent help in her kitchen. 
Her husband assured her that she would best 
make the happiness of his home, by enjoying 
whatever of ease and luxury he could command 
for her. He talked with her of business, as he 
talked with his partner; read the same books 
which she read, and with her endeavored to 
supply some deficiencies of education. 

With Marian Carroll, Mrs. Mitchell had been 
first to propose a friendly intimacy ; with Susan 
Carroll she waited for the latter to take the ini- 
tiative in all things. Often meeting together, 
in company with their husbands, the winter 


212 


The Turning of the Wheel, 

evenings were favorable for the growth of their 
friendship. Frequently, too, Sam joined them, 
with Lura Conrad, whose engagement to him 
was no secret. 

She was a dressmaker ; '' a neat, tasty little 
body,” as all the villagers said, and a general 
favorite. Sam was sure that when he should be 
married, his wife would bear comparison with 
'‘any of the rest.” He was somewhat im- 
patient, also, to prove the truth of his assertion, 
but Lura insisted upon postponement until they 
could afford a home of their own. 

“ Lura is right,” said Orne, to whom this was 
repeated. “ I am beginning to think it would 
be better if no man was allowed to marry, until 
he had a few hundred dollars. Most young 
men, in such a place as this, could save a hun- 
dred dollars a year from their wages, if they 
would give up the foolish habits upon which 
they spend so large a part of their earnings.” 

“ But you see they won’t do it,” replied Sam. 
“ They will have their tobacco, and liquor, too, 
if they can get it. You and Jim have fought 
so hard against liquor, here, there isn’t much 
of a chance to buy it in town, but there is 
plenty for sale all around us, and those who 
want it won’t deny themselves for the sake of 
saving anything.” 


213 


A Fittmg Marriage, 

“Then they never ought to think of being 
married. They are not fit to marry good 
women, and bad women ought not to be mar- 
ried at all.” 

“That is true, every word of it, Orne, and if 
you and Jim had your way, the millennium would 
come right along. But in spite of you both, 
men will get married, with next to nothing to 
live on. Men will chew tobacco, and smoke, 
and drink liquor, and scold, and swear, and 
abuse everybody they dare to. Women will 
grow slack, and dirty, and discouraged, and 
miserable ; and if there isn’t a troop of children 
swarming about the premises, the Lord be 
praised for His overruling providence. I have 
made my speech, and may as well go along. 
Guess you and Lura are in the right of it, but 
if I am not to be married until there is a house 
on the knoll in the swamp, you may look out to 
see the foundation laid before long.” 

James Carroll had been married a year, when 
a son was born to him, and his great, loving 
heart had a new object upon which to lavish its 
wealth of affection. His emotions were too 
deep and sacred for the usual congratulations 
upon such occasions. He welcomed the new 
life with a strange, tender reverence, while no 
words can express the feelings with which he 


214 Turning of the Wheel. 

regarded her who had given him this treasure. 
Henceforth, because of her, all mothers would 
be invested with a holy charm. 

It was her pleasure to name her son “James 
Gresham”; and when, three years after, a 
daughter was cradled in her arms, she called the 
baby girl “ Marian Gresham.” Marian would 
still be a household word with her husband ; 
and this tribute to the dead but made the living 
dearer. 

Meanwhile, many changes had occurred in 
the outer world. Large bodies of workmen, 
congregated together, and watching with jealous 
eyes the rapid accumulation of wealth on the 
part of their employers, began to talk of pro- 
tecting themselves against the aggressions of 
capital. They shared, in some degree, the fever- 
ish haste which even then characterized Ameri- 
can enterprise. 

With increased facilities for travel and com- 
munication, men of like employment were 
brought nearer to each other. Unions, having 
regard to the general improvement of workmen, 
and the assistance of such as were unfortunate, 
had been organized among the various trades ; 
and gradually these societies embraced other 
objects. They proposed to regulate the hours 
of labor, and establish a uniform rate of wages ; 


A Fitting Marriage. 215 

thus virtually controlling the industries of the 
country. 

« A demand was made that the* length of the 
working day be reduced from thirteen hours to 
ten hours, and after much opposition and dis- 
cussion, this demand was generally conceded. 
Carroll & Mitchell were among the first to 
adopt the ten-hour system ; and as a conse- 
quence, all trades in the village were obliged to 
conform to their standard. 

“ Short days and high wages never helped a 
man get rich,” remarked one who was seriously 
affected by the change. “You hear that, do 
you, Carroll ? ” 

“ Yes, I hear it,” was the reply. 

“And do you believe it ?” 

“That depends upon the man. I think our 
workmen would pronounce it false.” 

“ How about capitalists ? What of them ?” 

“ In the long run, what is best for one side 
is best for the other. I think, myself, that ten 
hours is a fair day for work, and three hours 
extra for rest and reading are very desirable.” 

“ But how many in this village will spend the 
extra time in reading?” 

“ They can spend it so, if they please.” 

“ I know they can, and I hope they will, but 
I have not much faith in the mental improve- 


i 


216 TAe Turning of the Wheel, 

ment folks talk about. I am not going to 
quarrel with the new order of things. I only- 
wish it had been brought about when I was 
working for day wages. I am willing to yield 
as much as anybody to just demands, but 
I intend to manage my own business. I 
worked hard to earn the money I have invest- 
ed here, and it belongs to me. It don’t belong 
to the men who work for me. I need them 
and they need me ; but if they could earn 
more somewhere else, they wouldn’t stop to 
think of me. 

Another thing, Carroll : I have noticed that 
the men who talk the loudest about being op- 
pressed and ground down by their employers 
are the greatest tyrants in their homes, and the 
most wasteful of their money. A good deal of 
this new-fangled talk is all nonsense. I have 
seen both sides, and I know. 

“ Of all the men I pay off, every month, I 
honestly believe that one-half of them would be 
better off to work thirteen hours a day than ten. 
Their families would be better off too. I didn’t 
begin on the teetotal plan, as you and Mitchell 
did, and some of my best workmen drink more 
than is good for them, in spite of all you two 
have done to keep liquor out of the town. The 
more leisure they have, the more liquor they 


A Fitting MariAage. 217 

will drink, and the less money they will spend 
for their families.” 

“ That may be ; but if, on the whole, we don’t 
have better gardens and more home comforts in 
our village, I shall be disappointed.” 

“ And do you think the gain — whatever it is 
— will counterbalance the loss ? There must be 
a loss somewhere. Whatever may be said about 
it, a man cannot do as much work in ten hours 
as in thirteen. I can afford the change, and 
still make a fair profit ; but somewhere there is 
a loss.” 

“ The loss falls upon a few, while the good in- 
ures to many. I believe in the greatest good of 
the greatest number ; and you know as well as I, 
that work which takes all the life out of a man 
will never improve him mentally or morally, un- 
less he is so bad, that the less there is of him, the 
better.” 

“ You have worked thirteen hours a day, Car- 
roll, year in and year out. So have I, and so has 
Mitchell. Did it take all the life out of you? 
If it did, how could you read as much as you 
have, and make so many experiments ? Some 
of the time, since you have been here, you have 
both averaged fourteen hours’ work a day, be- 
sides looking after everything. Not another 
man in your shop has worked as hard as you 


2i8 The Ttirning of the WheeL 

two have, and I venture to say you could not 
hire one who would.” 

“ We should not expect to, neither should we 
expect to pay any two men what we have act- 
ually earned. There are two sides to that, Mr. 
Tabor.” 

“But you have money invested, and of course, 
you expect to make a good percentage on that. 
Then you and Mitchell furnish brains to run the 
business, and brains are of some account as well 
as muscle. As near as I can judge by the signs 
of the times, there will be a square fight between 
labor and capital before you and I are very old 
men.” 

“There is no reason for it,” replied James 
Carroll. “ Each is necessary to the other, and 
it will be an unfortunate day for the country 
when this is denied.” 

This conversation occurred in the early days 
of “ the ten-hour system,” but as time went on, 
neither gentleman saw cause to change his opin- 
ions. 

Sam Mitchell, who had contracted for the 
erection of some buildings, was loud in his com- 
plaints. Regarding only his own interests, he de- 
nounced the measure as absurd. He had worked 
thirteen hours a day, both as apprentice and jour- 
neyman, and others could do it as well as he. 


A Fitting Marriage, 


219 


“No telling what will be wanted next,” he 
said to Orne with much asperity. “ I shall not 
make a dollar more on any one of my contracts 
this season, than my best workmen will. That 
is a fact, whether you believe it or not. 1 made 
no allowance for three hours off every day.” 

“You ought to have done so. I told you 
how it would be.” 

“ I know you did, you wise old fellow, but I 
wanted the jobs, and thought I would risk it. 
Now I must take what comes. I shall have less 
for my house, but I will do what I can to it, and 
finish up after we move in. I am not going to 
have Bess married first.” 

“ You might have built a smaller house.” 

“ I know I might, but I wouldn’t. I want to 
live in as good style as the rest of you, and I in- 
tend to. Next year, I shall get my pay for the 
difference between ten hours and thirteen. I 
tell you, Orne, there is a good time coming, and 
we shall live to see the day.” 

To build a house in “that swamp” seemed to 
the villagers a most foolish undertaking ; yet 
scarcely was the foundation laid, when they be- 
gan to suspect that in buying the swamp, Sam 
Mitchell had laid the foundation of a fortune. 
Early and late he worked upon his house, some- 
times with others assisting, and often alone. 


2 20 The Turjiing* of the Wheel. 

His sister Bessie watched his progress, much 
as she had watched him while building Ruel’s 
house ; giving him her company, and asking 
questions, which were sometimes answered 
frankly and sometimes evaded. 

‘'Well, Bess, Aunt Dolly was right, when she 
said you were like a butterfly,” he exclaimed, as 
she ran down the steps leading to her eldest 
brother’s house ; her hair floating over her 
shoulders, and her dress adorned with knots of 
ribbon. “Anybody might know that Percy 
was expected.” 

“Well, sir, is that any reason why I shouldn’t 
be like a butterfly ?” 

“Just the reason why you should be like one. 
You are a handsome little body; no mistake 
about that. Not quite so good-looking as my 
Lura, but you look well enough for Percy Tol- 
man. Say, Bess, what did you want of me ? ” 
asked Sam, seeing that his teasing annoyed her. 

“ I want you and Lura to come and spend the 
evening with us. I have not had time to call 
on her. The babies have fretted all day, and I 
hope, for Jennie’s sake, now they are asleep, 
they will sleep till to-morrow at this time. Plow 
mother ever lived to take care of you and Sarah, 
with so many other children, is more than I can 
understand. Twins are pretty, and Jennie’s are 


A Fitting Marriage. 221 

darlings, but three women are needed to take 
care of them.” 

Here a whistle announced the arrival of the 
train, and with a parting charge to her brother, 
Bessie hastened back to the house ; while he stood 
for a moment, thinking of her, the pet of the fam- 
ily, and contrasting her girlhood with that of his 
sister Kate. She had never earned a dollar in 
her life, and yet her wants had all been supplied ; 
Orne providing generously for her education, 
and keeping her with him much of the time. 

Lizzie, too, was often away from the old 
home, although her interests led her to prefer 
the country to either village or city. She ex- 
pected to be the wife of a farmer ; not a wealthy 
farmer, but a man of liberal ideas and generous 
heart. Aunt Dolly was delighted that one of 
the girls was to live on a farm ; and what she 
thought of the proposed marriage may be in- 
ferred from the following words. 

It aint likely Lizzie will ever have as nice 
things as the baby will, but she will have every 
bit as good a husband. Tell you what, Mrs. 
Mitchell, if a woman is going to live with a man 
as his wife, it makes a sight of difference to her 
what kind of a man he is. Rufus Sargent is 
smart as a steel-trap, and he was just as good to 
his old grandma’am as anybody could be. That is 


222 The Turning of the Wheel. 

a good sign. I have always noticed that. I have 
known him to leave his work to wait upon her, 
and then work till after dark, to make up for 
the time he spent. Lizzie won’t need any pity. 
He and Ruel are good friends, and they think 
pretty much alike about farming ; so there won’t 
be any pinching where he is. Now which do you 
expect will be married first, Lizzie or the baby?” 

“ I expect Lizzie will. I want Bessie to come 
home and stay with us a year or two, before she 
is married.” 

'‘So do I, but I don’t expect it. The Tol- 
mans are set in their way, and Percy thinks he 
has waited a good while now. It wouldn’t be 
any strange if the baby was married first. It 
will be lonesome to have her go so far off, but 
there aint many women have as little to com- 
plain of about their children as you have. An- 
other thing, too, Ruel’s baby will be big enough 
to run over here before long.” 

Percy Tolman had waited long for Bessie 
Mitchell, and when asked in regard to this, he 
said that from the time he first saw her, he in- 
tended to marry her. 

“ But what if she had refused to marry you ? ” 
questioned one of the family. 

“ She could not,” he answered, laughing. “ I 
knew I could make her love me if I had the op- 


A Fitting Marriage. 223 

portunity, and I took care to have the oppor- 
tunity.” 

No one who had watched their acquaintance 
doubted this last assertion, and when Bessie was 
eighteen years of age, he persuaded her and her 
parents to consent to an immediate marriage ; 
thus leaving Sam to follow, where he had in- 
tended to lead. 

His twin sister remained unmarried. She 
was the scholar of the family ; a woman of rare 
intellectual ability, which study had developed 
and strengthened. Occupying a good position 
as teacher, it was under her instruction that her 
sisters had been educated. She was a general 
helper to an extended and constantly widening 
circle of friends, to whom she gave the most 
hearty sympathy and service. 

Her parents were very proud of her; her 
father especially so. Indeed, he was proud of 
all his children ; in whom he had the good sense 
to recognize abilities superior to his own. Visit- 
ing in their homes, and there learning lessons of 
courtesy and kindness, he became a more genial 
man, and a more considerate husband. Al- 
though not feeling the infirmities of age, he 
gradually relinquished the management of the 
farm to Ruel, whom he acknowledged to be a 
much better farmer than himself. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE REUNION. 

The Mitchells were to have a family party ; 
or, rather, a party of families. Richard Tolman 
and wife, with their children and grandchildren, 
were expected. All the Mitchells were to be 
present. The household of James Carroll was 
included, and they would keep open doors for 
the entertainment of guests during the festal 
week. 

They were coming, old and young, to sit at 
well-spread tables, and congratulate each other 
that the lines had fallen to them in such pleasant 
places. There would be farmers, scholars, me- 
chanics, manufacturers, and active businessmen. 
Matronly women, standing side by side with 
their husbands ; boys and girls, some sun-brown- 
ed and hardy ; others, fair and delicate. 

John Mitchell and Richard Tolman were 
growing to be old men, prone rather to talk of 
the past than to speculate of the future. There 
was not the contrast between them there had 
been thirty years before, yet the latter was still 
(224) 


The Reunion, 


225 


the superior. They met right cordially, but be- 
tween their wives there could never be much of 
real companionship. 

They were too unlike to have many sympa- 
thies in common, save those which all mothers 
must share. Mrs. Tolman was decided and out- 
spoken, having positive opinions and strong 
preferences, yet withal, a lovely, loving woman. 

Mrs. Mitchell, accustomed to yield to others, 
and having spent the best part of her life in 
exhausting labor, was distrustful of herself ; 
rarely presuming to express an opinion except 
upon the most simple subjects. But she was 
good and true ; naturally, perhaps, quite the 
equal of her with whom she was now brought 
into such close relations. 

No one of Mrs. Mitchell’s children shared 
her meekness, and the reason for this cannot be 
better stated, than in Aunt Dolly’s own words. 
At the time of which I write, she had been 
dead for several years ; yet her criticisms and 
conclusions were so often quoted, that she still 
exerted a strong influence over those who re- 
membered her with sincere affection. 

“ It aint any strange that Mrs. Mitchell’s 
children have got more spirit than she has. 
They see different times from what she did. 
When she was first married, she was bright and 

15 


2 26 The Tttrning of the Wheel. 

chipper as a bird. I don’t want to say that John 
Mitchell wasn’t kind to her, but women folks 
can’t bear everything, and not have anything to 
help them along. It aint likely to me that 
one of our girls would do as she has done, but 
folks can’t be sure about such things. John 
Mitchell has had a lesson, but it came almost 
too late.” 

It may be that he was thinking of this as he 
glanced from his wife to Mrs. Tolman, who 
carried her years lightly, and laughed as glee- 
fully as did the grandchildren who gathered 
around her. His thoughts, whatever they might 
have been, were soon interrupted by Kate, who 
seated herself near him. Orne soon joined 
them ; and then another, and another, until only 
Lizzie and Bessie remained away. 

“ There, father, doesn’t it make you feel old, 
to see so many of your descendants, all brave 
and beautiful ? ” asked Sam, with the same 
merry twinkle in his eye, which had character- 
ized him when, a barefooted boy, he had driven 
the cows afield to the music of his own ringing 
voice. 

“ I don’t feel very old,” was the father’s reply. 

It seems to me I felt older, thirty years ago, 
than I do now. Then, I was anxious and 
troubled. Now, I take the world easy, and 


The Reunio7t. 


227 

trust Ruel to run the farm, while I look on and 
wonder.” 

“ Wonder at what ? ” asked Kate. 

“ Wonder how Ruel can lay up money, when 
I only managed to make the ends of the year 
meet, and pay the interest on the mortgage. 
But he is gaining, right along, and the farm is 
worth five thousand dollars more, to - day, 
than it was when Ruel was married. I know 
he has bought some pasture land, but just the 
acres I took from father have increased in value 
to that amount.” 

“ There are several reasons for that,” respond- 
ed Orne. There is a better market for farm 
products, and the railroad brings the market to 
your very door. The old farm has a great deal 
of land just suited to raising fruit, and Ruel 
understands how to make the most of it. His 
orchards bring him large profits. 

“ Another thing : people who read and think, 
as he does, get new ideas about farming, and 
learn to work at the best advantage. When I 
was at home, haying was so formidable a job, 
that it required a small army of men to accom- 
plish it, and every other interest must give way. 
This, out of doors, while in the house it was 
the most trying season of the year. There was 
baking, brewing, frying, and toasting, from the 


2 28 The Turning of the Wheel. 

time the first swath was mowed, till the last 
load of hay was in the barn.” 

“You have set that out pretty well, Orne. 
You could always make out a good story, when 
you undertook it,” said his father. 

“ So far as work in the house is concerned, he 
has only told the truth in a very plain way,” re- 
sponded Kate. “ I could add some striking 
embellishments, and still fail to do the subject 
justice. I never saw such hungry men any- 
where else, as used to sit down to our table in 
haying-time. I believe I should be distracted 
at the very thought of doing the cooking I did 
the summer before I left home. It is a long 
time since then, but it seems to me I can re- 
member everything which happened that sum- 
mer. It was hard for me, and doubly hard for 
mother. Farmers worked hard in those days, 
but their work was easy, compared with that 
done by their wives. Others may sigh for the 
good old times ; I lived too near them to feel 
the enchantment.” 

“ I am not going to say you are wrong, Kate, 
but seems to me, you and Orne, both, are rather 
apt to tell a story full as large as it will bear.” 

“Not this time, father,” answered both in a 
breath. 

“ Then you would rather live in this genera- 


The Reunion. 


229 


tion than in the last,” remarked Mr. Tolman, 
looking up from the paper he had been reading. 

'‘Yes, sir,” replied his son-in-law, to whom 
his remark seemed particularly addressed. 

" Many would say there is good reason why 
you should be satisfied with your lot. You are 
an employer ; not an employd Instead of 
obeying orders, you dictate to others. You are 
not working for wages, established at a fixed 
rate. You may make large profits. You have 
made large profits, and your business is increas- 
ing every year. If you and your partner are 
not what would be considered wealthy men, 
you have every prospect of reaching that stand- 
ard. Of course, you are interested in the labor 
question.” 

" Of course I am, sir, and I wish to look at 
it fairly. I consider myself a hard-working 
man, as I have always been, although I work, 
now, at my own dictation. Yet let my position 
be what it might, I should still be thankful that 
my lot is cast in the present, rather than in the 
past. I believe in justice and equity; but I 
speak advisedly, when I say that were capital to 
yield entirely to the demands of labor, the coun- 
try would be ruined. It is not necessary for me 
to plead my own cause, but there has never 
been a man in our employ who has averaged 


230 The Turning of the Wheel. 

to work as many hours a day as Carroll and 
myself.” 

“ What if you had remained in the shop 
where you learned your trade ? ” 

I should have worked fewer hours, had no 
care beyond doing the work set for me to do, 
and enjoyed my leisure as best I could. I 
should have had less money ; but I should have 
saved something from my earnings, and invested 
my savings where they would earn more for me. 
I should not have spent money before I earned 
it, neither should I have spent it for liquor and 
tobacco, as so many others have done. That is 
a crying evil among workingmen. I know 
to-day of four who worked with me who are 
confirmed drunkards. I know of eight others, 
who have lived in hired houses and barely sup- 
ported their families, while spending enough for 
tobacco to have paid, long ago, for good homes 
of their own.” 

“ There are such men everywhere, in all de- 
partments of labor, and to my mind, liquor and 
tobacco are responsible for more poverty than 
all other causes combined. I know you would 
have lived comfortably, and saved some money, 
but would you have been satisfied to go on in 
that way year after year ? ” 

“ Perhaps not, but if I could have done no 


The Reunion, 


231 


better, I hardly think I should have wasted 
much time in fretting and complaining. It is 
quite possible that I should have remained in 
the big shop, in some capacity, if Carroll had 
not proposed that I should try my fortune with 
him. I always enjoyed my work ; and now, if 
I should lose what property I have, and be 
obliged to work for day wages, I should not be 
an unhappy man.” 

“That is just like Orne,” exclaimed Sam, 
who had waited impatiently for an opportunity 
to speak. “I pretend* to no such goodness. 
I like carpentering ; but when I began, I calcu- 
lated to be a master builder, and I should not 
be satisfied with anything else. I have made a 
few thousand dollars, and I think T have a right 
to enjoy the fruit of my labors. It strikes me, 
too, that when you come to talk about the 
working class, most of the men and women in 
the country belong to that class. There are 
some living in splendor, who neither toil nor 
spin ; but for one, I do not envy them. A 
turn of the wheel of fortune. Aunt Dolly 
talked so much about, may bring them to the 
bottom.” 

“ Now Sam has taken the floor, the whole 
subject will be thoroughly ventilated, unless 
something stays the progress of the wind,” said 


232 The Turning of the Wheel. 

Kate, smiling upon the brother, of whom she 
was justly proud. 

The wind was sta^^ed, and the “something” 
which effected this was a wee bit of a girl ; a 
fairy-like creature, who called to papa to know 
how much candy she ought to give Cousin 
Percy. No more would be heard from him 
among the older people, until the children saw 
fit to release him ; which they were not likely 
to do, so long as he devoted himself to their 
entertainment. 

“ The labor question is getting to be a serious 
one,” remarked James Carroll. “The present 
demand for a full day’s pay for eight hours’ work 
is made with an authority which assumes that 
the power is in the hands of those making the 
demand. This, it seems to me, is not the true 
state of the case. As a rule, the man working 
for another, be he skilled or unskilled, needs 
the money he can earn, more than the capitalist, 
contractor, or corporation needs his services. 
With him, the alternative is comfort or starva- 
tion ; with his employer, large profits, small 
profits, or no profits at all. Beyond a certain 
point capital is as dependent upon labor, as 
labor upon capital ; but up to that point there 
is a wide difference, wholly to the advantage 
of capital.” 


The Reu7iion. 


233 


Does that seem to you just, Mr. Carroll ?” 

“ If it is unjust, I know not at whose door 
the injustice must be laid. It is the inevitable 
result of certain conditions, vvhich no legislation 
can change. A man who has money can be 
more independent than one who has not money.” 

''No one will deny that ; and as the world 
counts freedom, a man is free to do as he 
pleases with his own. In his relations to God, 
he is bound by every consideration of gratitude, 
as well as by his own dependence, to make the 
best use of his property, not only for his own 
good, but for the good of others. ' Bear ye one 
another’s burdens ’ is an old command the world 
has not yet outgrown. The Christian stand- 
point should be the business stand-point ; but 
unfortunately the two are often far removed 
from each other. 

" That is a great misfortune, Mr. Carroll. If 
all our business men were consistent Christians, 
having the fear of God before their eyes, and 
the love of God in their hearts, business would 
be differently conducted. To buy at the cheap- 
est rates, and sell at the largest profits is the 
prevailing rule, no matter who suffers.” 

"That is true, Mr. Tolman ; yet to a certain 
extent, the laws of supply and demand regulate 
that. When we began business, we could have 


234 'The Turning of the Wheel. 

sold at higher rates than we did ; but taking into 
account the competition we must expect, and the 
advantages to be gained, we decided upon small 
profits and large sales. We believed that was 
not only better for us, but for all concerned.” 

The event has proved the wisdom of your 
decision, so far as your own interests are con- 
cerned ; and whoever furnishes necessary imple- 
ments of labor at fair prices is a public bene- 
factor. You have helped, too, to improve the 
village. Your property has been taxed for the 
benefit of your workmen and their families.” 

“Yes, sir; we have been taxed heavily, as 
have the other business firms here. We have 
good schools, and we have helped to pay for 
them. We have a good town library, and we 
have helped to pay for that. The capital in- 
vested here has paid its full proportion for all 
improvements. We have voted for them when 
some of our men stoutly opposed them ; and 
this, too, when the improvements were for their 
advantage rather than our own.” 

“ Do you consider your village a fair sample 
of the villages which have grown up in our 
country during the last forty years ? ” 

“ I cannot answer you decidedly. Some, per- 
haps, quite eclipse us, while others fall far be- 
hind. Generally speaking, we have a good class 


The Retinion. 


235 


of men here. The majority of them own the 
houses they live in, and are gradually accumu- 
lating a comfortable property. Some, of course, 
spend all they earn, and then complain because 
they have nothing left.” 

“ That is the case everywhere, and nothing 
less than a radical change in the men themselves 
will ever remedy the evil. Higher wages and 
fewer hours of labor would only make things 
worse. There would be more money and more 
time to waste.” 

That is true ; but such men are the very ones, 
in this village, who now demand the change from 
ten to eight hours.” 

'' Shall you make the change ? ” 

'‘No, sir; it will not be done where I have 
any authority. My partner and myself agree 
upon this point. At our present rate of profits, 
we cannot afford to make the change. We use 
machinery in every part of our work where this 
is possible, and this machinery, with the force 
that drives it, is as good for twenty hours a day 
as for eight. We could increase our prices, and 
make the reduction of time ; and if every other 
shop and foundry in the country would do the ^ 
same, we should lose nothing. But, in one 
sense, labor is capital, and so much withdrawn 
from the market must tell somewhere. I take 


236 The Turning of the Wheel. 

the ground, that a man in ordinary health can 
do ordinary hand work, ten hours a day, without 
being injured by it. 

“ Of course, there are exceptional kinds of 
work, done at great disadvantage, and under 
unfavorable circumstances, which should be 
considered by themselves. We have one man 
working for us who never exceeds six hours a 
day, and sometimes works even less. His health 
is poor, but he is a first-class workman on the 
most particular jobs ; and in that time he can 
earn more for us than most of our men earn in 
ten hours. He has bought a house a little out 
of the village, and we consider him a valuable 
accession to our community.” 

During this discussion, of which I have tran- 
scribed but a small part, the participants had 
drawn nearer together, while others had joined 
them, and it was Howard Tolman who asked : 

‘‘ Is there no complaint because he receives as 
much as they who work four hours more each 
day?” 

“ I presume there vyould be, if it was known, 
although our men receive different wages, ac- 
cording to their work. Some can do better 
than others, and we pay them accordingly.” 

“ How about union men ?” 

“We have but few at work for us.” 


The Reunion, 


237 


“ Then you are not dictated to in regard to 
wages, or the number of apprentices you can 
have ? ” 

“No, sir; and we never shall be. The firm 
is a unit there. When we cannot manap^e our 
own affairs, we will rest upon our oars and watch 
the tide sweep by. When a young man wishes 
to learn a trade in our shop, there are only two, 
besides himself, to be consulted in regard to it. 
Orne has kept silence, while I have expressed 
my opinions, but he talks on this subject more 
strongly than I do.” 

“ The masses of the people need to study the 
principles of political economy,” said Howard 
Tolman. “There are principles, underlying all 
these differences of position and production, 
which, if understood, would help to bring about 
a better state of feeling.” 

“But the masses are too much occupied in 
providing for present needs and pleasures, to 
devote time to the study of political economy. 
Sometimes, too, they are under the influence of 
professional agitators, who hope to be benefited 
by the convulsions of society.” 

“ You may be right, Mr. Carroll, but do you 
think that what are called the working-classes 
are entirely wrong, in feeling that they have 
cause for complaint ?” 


238 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ I think they are often treated unjustly ; but 
the fact that one man works at the dictation of 
another, receiving a fair compensation for his 
work, is no cause for complaint.” 

What is a fair compensation ?” 

“The market value of his labor, and this, cir- 
cumstances and conditions must decide. Other 
things equal, a skilled workman can command 
higher wages than one who has never been 
trained to any especial calling ; while high wages 
may be no more necessary to one than to the 
other. Thus there is a seeming injustice; but 
unless the dispensations of Providence are un- 
just, it is only seeming.” 

“ But many say that the tendency of the age 
is toward extremes ; that one class of our peo- 
ple is becoming enormously rich, at the expense 
of another class, which is constantly growing 
poorer.” 

“It is true that some men are becoming enor- 
mously rich ; and in some instances, this is at 
the expense of others. But it is also true that 
many men and corporations of men have accu- 
mulated wealth, by developing the natural re- 
sources of the country. In this they have been 
aided by their employes, and I contend that the 
latter have been benefited at the same time.” 

“ But not in the same proportion, Mr. Carroll.” 


The Reunion. 


239 


‘‘ I am not sure in regard to that. To arrive 
at a correct estimate, the condition of these peo- 
, pie, without the labor and the wages, must be 
considered. Then, under our government, there 
are institutions and advantages, for which wealth 
is heavily taxed, but which it can never monopo- 
lize. In this respect there is a gain to the whole 
community.” 

‘‘ I see the force of your reasoning, and I 
judge that you have given the subject much at* 
tention.” 

‘‘ I have, and I have endeavored to look at it 
fairly. Upon some points I am fully decided. 
In regard to others, I may see cause to change 
my mind. We have not yet reached the end of 
the agitation. There will be strikes, and rumors 
of strikes ; all tending to disaster.’ 

“ Then you believe that strikes are always dis- 
astrous.” 

“ That is my belief. There may be exceptional 
cases, although such have not come under my 
observation. Even where there is actual injus- 
tice on the part of employers, I think manly, 
straightforward appeals, which recognize sub- 
stantially the same characteristics in master and 
workman, would be far better than offensive 
demonstrations.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


MADAM MASTERS. 

The reunion, described in the last chapter, 
was all which had been anticipated. Children 
then met, who in after-years would date many 
an event from that meeting. Its like would not 
be again. Around the old hearthstones some 
would gather yearly, while others would be 
missing. 

The Mitchell farm was steadily gaining in 
value, and among his neighbors Ruel was 
counted a rich man. 

Richard Tolman had relinquished the super- 
intendence of his lumber-mill to his younger 
son, who managed it with great tact and ability. 
The family relations of this son brought him 
often to the home of his ancestors, for which 
he cherished something of the feeling with 
which an Englishman regards his ancestral do- 
mains. 

He was a genial man, active and happy ; 
watching cljsely the progress of events, and 
forecasting from them the probable future. 

(240) 


Madam Masters, 


241 


He had in his employ a large number of men, 
not unlike others in their ambition and restless- 
ness ; yet his personal popularity was an almost 
sure guaranty that they would not take advan- 
tage of his necessity, to press a questionable 
claim. 

His brother-in-law, Mr. Yates, the husband of 
his sister Fannie, was less fortunate. This 
gentleman was the owner of some large iron 
works, of which he was, also, superintendent 
and manager. Honorable, upright, and withal 
a Christian, he yet lacked the magnetic power 
by which one mind controls another. He was 
thought lacking in sympathy for others, and the 
fact that he had inherited his wealth placed him 
at disadvantage. 

Comparing their wages with what they could 
earn elsewhere, his employes were well paid. 
From time to time he had advanced their pay, 
but at length they were aroused to a considera- 
tion of the fact that the profits of The Works ” 
were very great, while the share they received 
was only sufficient to meet their own personal 
wants and the wants of those dependent upon 
them. This, so far as related to themselves, 
was not actually true, yet it was so asserted. 

Men, with grimy hands and blackened faces, 
begfan to talk of the difference between their 

O 

16 


242 The Turrimg of the Wheel. 

homes and “ the master’s.” Why should they 
wear hodden gray and coarse jean, while “ the 
master” wore broadcloth and fine linen ? Why 
should their wives wear cheap fabrics, while his 
wife was clad in silks and velvets ? Why should 
their daughters feel the restrictions of poverty, 
while Jennie, Bessie, and Florence Yates had no 
wish ungratified ? Why should their sons 

Here their questions ceased ; for Percy Yates, 
a lad of twelve summers, was the pet of every 
man in the hamlet. Not one but would have 
risked life and limb for him. With his uncle’s 
name, he seemed to have taken his uncle’s char- 
acter, which was quite sufficient to render him 
popular. 

Fearless and active as he was, his mother 
would have restrained him within what seemed 
to her the bounds of safety, but here his father 
interfered. Certain rules were fixed and un- 
alterable, yet the boy was accorded large liberty. 

“ He must learn to act for himself,” said Mr. 
Yates. “ When we see that he takes undue ad- 
vantage of his freedom, it will be time to 
change our plans.” 

As a consequence, he felt an honorable pride 
in meeting the expectations of his parents, while 
he knew that, were he to attempt it, he could 
not easily deceive them. Fie made many mis- 


/ 


Madam Masters, 


243 


takes ; and sometimes, under the stress of temp- 
tation, did what he knew to be positively wrong. 
Then followed his hours of humiliation, when 
he acknowledged his fault, and accepted the 
punishment allotted him. 

Not only to his parents, but to the workmen, 
when they were concerned, he was ready to 
m.ake acknowledgment ; and this gave him 
especial favor in their sight. The roughest 
Irishman made way for him ; treating him with 
an odd mingling of respectful, deference and 
affectionate familiarity. 

With the boys he was on terms of intimacy, 
which to a certain extent his father encouraged. 
In all disputes he was umpire ; and woe to the 
boy who told him a falsehood. Punishment 
would be inflicted, the offender would find hard 
to bear. Shut out from the companionship of 
Percy Yates, there was little enjoyment for a 
boy in the vicinity of “ The Works.” 

Some of the foreign workmen had come, 
wretchedly poor, to this place, where they had 
been given comfortable quarters and supplied 
with food. Compared with the squalor and 
destitution they had left in the old country, 
their present surroundings were luxurious. 

Among these was a family by the name of 
Burns ; a man and his wife, with two children. 


244 Turnmg of the Wheel. 

The elder child was a strong, healthy girl, hav- 
ing more than ordinary capacity, and far more 
than ordinary good nature. The younger was 
harmless and affectionate ; a boy, fourteen years 
of age, whose mind could only be reached 
through his heart. 

- He could neither read nor write. His sister, 
Norah, three years his senior, had spent days and 
weeks in a vain effort to teach him the alphabet. 
Patient and docile, he repeated whatever he was 
told, yet seempd to gain not one idea. Soon 
after the arrival of the family, Mrs. Yates employ- 
ed Norah in her kitchen, and the girl quickly 
made friends of all in the house. The children, to 
whom she was a treasure, never tired of listening 
to her Irish songs and legends. Sung or recited 
in a clear, sweet voice, with the national brogue, 
they afforded the listeners rare entertainment. 

What a pity that Eddie is not like his sis- 
ter,” said many who saw them, and the boy, 
himself, seemed to have a vague, consciousness 
that he was not wholly right. He could not 
climb, or swim, or engage in any sports where 
strength and activity were required. 

Percy Yates was ten years old, when Patrick 
Burns came to his father, asking for work, 
“ plaze yer honor,” and of all who had made a 
like request, no other was so destitute. 


Madam Masters. 


245 


If ye’ll only kape Pat from takin’ a dhrap 
too much, ye’ll find him as foine a worker as ye’ll 
want,” said his wife, when she was able to speak 
to the gentleman privately. “ He soigned the 
pledge, but there’s many with their whadlin’ ways 
that’ll thry him. I’d not be throublin’ yer honor, 
only it’s a jewel of a b’y is Pat, when he’s all 
right, an’ if ye’d plaze to spake to him, he’d be 
hadin’ yer words.” 

This, Mr. Yates promised to do, and soon 
after redeemed his promise ; adding some words 
of commendation for work well done. In ad- 
dition to his kindness, the fact that Percy had 
sharply and effectively reproved some thought- 
less boys who had made Eddie the victim of a 
practical joke, quite won the heart of Pat 
Burns, who was thenceforth the most devoted 
servant of the master and his family. 

There were men who had been employed in 
The Works ” for years, who had grown old, 
while doing day after day the work assigned 
them ; who had received fair wages for every 
day’s work ; and yet had not a dollar more than 
when they began. Some had large families ; 
but others, with families as large, had lived in 
greater comfort, and could now show their bank- 
books, with records of deposits made at short 
intervals. Where one had saved, another had 


246 The Turning of the Wheel. 

scattered. Where one had spent money for the 
necessaries of life, another had spent it for that 
which destroys the life of both soul and body. 

A temperance society had been organized, 
and strong influence used to induce every man 
to sign a pledge of total abstinence ; yet some 
of the best workmen denounced the measure as 
an attempt to tyrannize over them. They were 
not to be bound by promises and pledges. 
They would not sign away their liberty ; and so 
they remained the slaves of alcohol, while loudly 
asserting their independence. 

During the war, a common interest drew to- 
gether people of all classes and conditions. 
Whoever was loyal to the dear old flag made 
common cause against its enemies. Rich men 
and poor men sprang to the conflict ; while they 
who tarried at home, each in his or her way 
contributed to the relief of the country. 

Mr. Yates did not enter the army, yet he 
made many sacrifices ; some willingly, and some 
because necessity was laid upon him. Having 
his home in a State through which the vast 
forces mustered to battle swept southward, and 
anon surged back toward the north ; he felt all 
the alternations of hope and fear which agitated 
those more actively engaged in the struggle. 

Many of his workmen enlisted, under promise 


Madam Masters. 


247 


that their families should be objects of especial 
care. What was not done by public appropria- 
tion, Mr. Yates pledged himself to do with his 
own private means. The prices of all neces- 
saries, as well as luxuries, were high, but none 
were left to suffer; while for the families of 
those who would never return, permanent ar- 
rangements were made, whereby they would be 
benefited. 

Yet, despite all this, the wealthy iron-master 
was not popular. He was certainly generous, 
and he intended to be just ; but his justice and 
generosity were often unrecognized. It may 
be that he was unfortunate in the choice of men 
taking charge of the various departments of 
work ; but whatever the cause, he suffered in 
consequence of marked unpopularity. 

FI is whole fortune was invested here, and he 
most earnestly desired the prosperity of every 
person in the hamlet. He looked forward to 
the time when his son should succeed him, and 
Yatesville be known as a thriving village, whose 
inhabitants were enterprising and intelligent. 
As he advanced in life, realizing more and more 
his responsibilities, he felt keenly the defect in 
his character which I have described. He knew 
that few of his workmen loved him ; and how- 
ever unimportant this had once seemed to 


248 The Turning of the Wheel. 

him, it gradually became a matter of serious 
import. 

Mrs. Yates was kind, but she could not 
put herself in the places of these women, who 
through much of pain and sorrow, homely as 
were their lives, had learned lessons of wisdom 
meet for all. To some, she was attracted, not- 
withstanding the difference in education, while 
for one who had come among them soon after 
the war, she accorded hearty admiration. 

This woman was known as “ Madam Masters,” 
and well did she deserve the stately title. In 
her youth she must have been beautiful, and 
now there was a grand imperiousness in her 
manner which made amends for all of beauty 
she had lost. Clad in coarsest garments, she 
moved with the air of a duchess. 

“ From whence did she come?” was a ques- 
tion often asked, and never satisfactorily an- 
swered. 

She came with her son, who asked for work. 
He was ready to do anything. The boy — Rob- 
ert Masters was a boy then — had never been in- 
side a workshop in his life, and knew nothing of 
actual labor ; but he could learn, as he said with 
flashing eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“ Let me begin at the bottom and work my 
way up, if it please 3^ou, master,” he added with 


Madam Masters. 


249 

a half-scornful, half-respectful emphasis. I 
wish to learn it all.” 

“You will find it hard, and you don’t look 
used to hard work.” 

It was easy to see that an angry response 
sprang to the boy’s lips, which for a moment 
were tightly compressed. Then in an emotion- 
less voice, he said : 

“ I can use myself to anything I please, sir, 
and if you will give me a trial, you shall find 
that I speak the truth.” 

“ How old are you ?” 

“ Fifteen, sir.” 

“ Your mother will need a house to live in.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ I have not one empty which is suitable for 
her, but I will give you work, and do the best 
I can for a house.” 

Mother will not be particular, sir, if it is 
but a place she can keep clean, and we can be 
by ourselves.” 

“ I can give you as much as that. You have 
some furniture.” 

“ No, sir.” 

A look of surprise responded to this answer, 
while the woman, standing by, did not so much 
as raise her eyes, until her son asked when they 
could have a house. 


250 The Ttirning of the Wheel, 

“ I will show you the only one I have empty, 
and you can occupy it at once,” replied Mr. 
Yates, rising to lead the way. 

At the door he paused, to allow Mrs. Masters 
to pass out before him, a courtesy she accepted 
as her due. The cottage shown to her con- 
sisted of two small rooms, with a low attic over 
them. 

“ Can you live here ?” asked the owner. 

“ Yes, sir ; if we can have the privilege,” was 
replied. 

“Then consider it your home. You can pur- 
chase some plain furniture at our store, and if 
your son works for us, there will be no hurry 
about the payment of the bill.” 

“We can pay for what we get. We will go 
now and look for furniture.” 

The tone in which this was said forbade fur- 
ther suggestions on the part of the gentleman. 
He had only to direct Madam Masters to the 
store and take his leave. 

Directly after leaving her, he learned from 
his teamster that when the latter was about to 
start on his return from a neighboring town, a 
lad had asked in what direction he was going ; 
and upon being told, had then asked if a box 
would be delivered at “ The Works,” at the same 
time offering to pay for its transportation. 


Madam Masters, 


251 

“And how are ye goin’ yerself ?” asked the 
man. 

“ I shall follow you,” was replied. 

“ Sure, an’ ye betther go with me than behind 
me. There’s room for ye.” 

“ But I have my mother, sir.” 

“Then the more raison for ridin’,” said he 
whose pride was gratified by the respectful ad- 
dress to which he was wholly unused. 

So they had come ; learning all they knew of 
their destination from the garrulous teamster, 
who needed only an occasional “ sir ” to keep 
up the flow of his words and spirits. In this 
way, the strangers obtained a tolerably correct 
knowledge of “ master, master’s family,” and 
the different grades of workmen. 

During a walk, when climbing a steep hill, 
the naother and son consulted together and 
formed their plans. Here was just the opening 
they desired, if Robert did not falter in his 
course. 

“ I shall not fail you, mother,” he said, in 
reply to a question she had asked. “ I have no 
wish to turn back. I counted the cost, and I 
would rather live with you in a hovel, than in a 
palace without you. I can work, and we can 
live.” 

“ And, my son, you will remember your oath.” 


252 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

“As God hears me, T will. You can trust 
me, mother”; and their eyes met in proud, mu- 
tual confidence. “We shall be all the world to 
each other, and I can do a great deal for you. 
O mother, this is a glorious country, where the 
poorest man is paid for what he earns, and ranks 
for all he is.” 

“ God bless you, my boy, and help you to 
make a bright future for yourself. You have 
saved me from despair, Robert, my darling.” 

How the thin lips quivered, and the whole 
expression of the face softened, as this was said 
with a yearning tenderness, possible only to a 
mother’s voice. 

“ I will yet save you from unhappiness, my 
darling mother. I can do something noble. I 
will do something noble.” 

“ I trust you, my son.” 

The teamster waited for them on the brow of 
the hill, and before three hours had passed, their 
arrangements were completed. 

Two small rooms and a garret were meagre 
accommodations for this mother and son ; yet 
there were not, in all the hamlet, rooms more 
scrupulously clean. The scant supply of fur- 
niture had been paid for at the time of its pur- 
chase, and it was not many months before there 
came to this cottage, every week, more of the 


Madam Masters. 


253 


best class of newspaper and magazine literature, 
than even Mr. Yates provided for himself and 
family. 

Robert Masters’ hands were soft and delicate 
when he entered upon his new life at “ The 
Works,” but he did not spare them. He turned 
from none of the grime, or hard work, although 
he was often so tired, that it seemed impossible 
for him to reach home. Here, a bath and a 
daintily served supper awaited him ; and as he 
told his mother, when he sat down with her for 
the evening, he was a gentleman again. 

Many were the conjectures in regard to him, 
while in one opinion all agreed : he was kind 
and winsome. Strong, too, and ready for what- 
ever might come. Percy Yates, who was ob- 
servant of all feats of strength, told his father 
that Robert was the best swimmer among all 
the boys and men, and could reach almost as far 
as “ Old Mike.” 

Where did you learn to row a boat, like 
that?” asked one who watched his skillful 
handling of the oars. 

“ Before I came here,” was his reply. 

“ But where ? ” 

On the water.” 

Unsatisfactory as was this, the questioner was 
too wise to push his inquiries, and from that 


2 54 Turning of the Wheel, 

time the young man could not be induced to 
enter a boat. 

At one time, when Mrs. Yates visited her 
father’s family, and business compelled her hus- 
band to remain at home, Mrs. Masters consented 
to take charge of the house. She had been in 
Yatesville long enough to gain the confidence 
of the community, and this was nothing lessen- 
ed by the new role in which she appeared. 

“Iff wanted a friend to stand by me even 
unto death, I would trust her,” said Mr. Yates 
to his wife, when the latter had returned. 
“ She would have made a grand hospital nurse ; 
a woman to help a brave man live, or die, as 
God had appointed him. Robert, too, is as re- 
liable as though the whole business depended 
upon him. He is a born master of himself and 
others.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


TEETOTALERS. 

During the war, Percy Tolman was the lead- 
ing patriotic spirit in his neighborhood, and Bes- 
sie was left to watch and wait, while he shared 
the privations of a soldier’s life. A true patriot 
herself, she would not bid him stay ; although 
her form grew thin and shadowy, and her eyes 
were dimmed with many tears. Mercifully, his 
life was preserved, and he came back to her, un- 
harmed. 

It was soon after this that his father trans- 
ferred to him the entire management of the 
business in which they had been jointly engaged. 
He then made large plans ; purchased extensive 
timber-lands, and in a generous, open-handed 
way, proposed to realize a fortune. 

“ You are making money,” said a heavy pur- 
chaser of lumber, as they discussed the terms of 
a bargain. 

I intend to make money,” was the hearty 
reply. 


(255) 


256 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“I am not sure but you are making more 
than your share.” 

“ What is my share ? ” 

“ I do not know. There would be a differ- 
ence of opinion about that.” 

“ Of course there would, and that is one rea- 
son why I intend to decide the matter for my- 
self. It is well for a man to manage his own 
business as far as he can.” 

“ How about your workmen ? They generally 
want to do the managing in these days, and it 
seems to me they are getting despotic.” 

“ Employers are often despotic.” 

“Yes, but you said it is well for a man to 
manage his own business, and I judge that you 
act up to your convictions.” 

“ I do, and I give as peremptory orders as any 
one, but I never fail to recognize the manhood 
of my men. Some of them know more of the 
details of certain parts of my work than I know 
myself, and I always consult them. Then if 
there is an extra job to be done, I let them 
know that I consider their doing it a favor to 
me ; and I never forget to pay them for it.” 

“You must pay out a good deal of extra 
money in the course of a year.” 

“ Not so much as you might think. When 
it comes to a hard pinch, the men care more for 


Teetotalers. 


257 


my words than my money, and I often strip off 
my coat and work with them. I learned to 
work, when I was a boy.” 

“It is hardly necessary for you to do that 
now.” 

“ I choose to do it. I always visit my lum- 
ber-camps as often as I can, and it does me good 
to hear the cheers that greet me. My workmen 
are my personal friends.” 

“ All teetotalers, too, I have heard.” 

“Every man of them. We have a temper- 
ance society of our own.” 

“ Of which you are president ?” 

“No, sir; I hold no office in the society, al- 
though I am a hard-working member.” 

“ How did you manage to bring them all into 
it? Men engaged in such work as yours gen- 
erally drink more or less liquor.” 

“ I know they do, and it is often the fault of 
their employers. I only follow the rule estab- 
lished by my father, when I say to a man ask- 
ing for work, ' If you wish to work for me, you 
must sign a pledge of total abstinence from all 
intoxicating drinks.’” 

“Are they all willing to do it?” 

“Not all; although my practice is so well 
known, that drinkers seldom come to me for 
work. Often men come, who wish to give up 
17 


25S The Turning of the Wheel. 

their drinking-habits, and are thankful to find 
a place where they will not be tempted by the 
sight or smell of liquor. There is none sold 
within three miles of us, and if any one should 
carry liquor to either of our lumber-camps, he 
would pay dearly for it.” 

“It might be done without your knowledge.” 

“ Hardly. There are tried men in camp whom 
I can trust to report such an outrage, if it should 
occur.” 

“You must have some rough hands.” 

“ I have, but the roughest are often most 
easily influenced for good. I should attempt 
the reform of such a man with far more hope of 
success, than I should have with one of your 
smooth, hypocritical fellows, who assume to be 
what they are not. Perhaps you know that to- 
tal abstinence is one of my pet hobbies.” 

“ I have heard so. How far do you ride 
it?” 

“ To the jumping-off place. Where my influ- 
ence holds, it is unpopular to be anything but a 
teetotaler. We have a strong society, with a 
president who has received a liberal education, 
and whose natural abilities are much superior to 
mine. He went down so low, in the city of 
New York, that his father disowned him ; but 
I believe him to be thoroughly reformed. He 


Teetotalers. 


259 

has hard hands and a tanned face, but in five 
years his friends will be proud of him.” 

“ If all employers were like you, Mr. Tolman, 
we should hear less of strikes, and combinations 
to resist the exactions of capital. I am not sure 
but the workingmen of the country are unjustly 
treated.” 

How do you treat the men in your employ ? ” 
“ I intend to treat them fairly, but they are 
doing different work from yours. I must con- 
fess that I should consider myself doomed to 
slavery, if I was obliged to engage in your ser- 
vice and do your bidding. There is a constant 
outlay of strength, from morning till night, 
month in and month out.” 

“That is true, but do you think the outlay of 
strength an actual hardship ? ” 

“ No, Mr. Tolman, I do not, unless the outlay 
is exhausting.” 

“ It is not always a hardship even then. A man 
may go from his work, at night, feeling quite 
exhausted ; when the welcome of his wife and 
children to a pleasant home makes him half for- 
get that he is tired. Then a good substantial 
supper, with tea or coffee — I believe in tea and 
coffee — and he must have been more tired than 
men of vigorous health and good habits average to 
be, if by that time he is not pretty well rested.” 


26 o The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ But what if he lacks the pleasant home, the 
substantial supper, and the tea or coffee ? ” 

“ If a man in decent health cannot provide 
for these, you may be sure that, in nine cases 
out of ten, there is something wrong about 
him. Take notice that I make no allowance 
for his spending one-sixth or one-quarter of his 
earnings for liquor and tobacco. No man can 
afford to do that.” 

“No man who works for wages.” 

“We all work for wages. I expect a return 
for my work. You expect a return for your 
work ; and we both expect that a part of this 
return will be in money. I am one of the work- 
ingmen of the country. There are some idlers, 
and unfortunately this class is increasing ; but 
they are not among capitalists.” 

“ That is true, Mr. Tolman, and as you say, 
we all work for wages. But the wages of the 
capitalist, and of those who serve him, are in 
such marked contrast, it seems hardly proper to 
compare them. At least, that is what the so- 
called reformers would say ; only putting it 
more strongly.” 

“ I know they would ; and according to my 
judgment, they say a great many inconsistent 
things, leading to confusion rather than reform. 
It is easy to make a man believe himself op- 


Teetotalers. 


26 t 


pressed and abused, but it is quite a different 
thing to show him how he can improve his con- 
dition. It takes only noisy declamation for one, 
while it requires serious thought and patient 
teaching for the other. ‘ The head cannot say 
to the hands, I have no need of thee ; the 
hands cannot say to the head, I have no need of 
thee.’ ” 

“ True, but in these days the hands often pro- 
pose to rule the head, and the trades unions 
propose to move the hands. I sometimes think 
the unions are at the bottom of all the trouble. 
They work evil, only evil, and that continually.” 

“ That seems to me too sweeping an asser- 
tion, Mr. Porter. If you would substitute 
‘ liquor-stores and saloons ’ for ‘ unions,’ in your 
assertion, I would endorse it wholly. Working 
in a legitimate way, the unions have done good. 
If there had been no such organizations of the 
so-called working classes, the oppression of 
which they talk might be a reality. Europe 
furnishes fearful examples of the tyranny of 
landlords and employers. Such a state of things 
can never obtain in this country ; yet it is true 
that where an advantage is to be gained, selfish- 
ness is too often the ruling principle. Labor 
has made some just demands, as well as many 
which seem to me unjust ; and I am not pre- 


262 The Turning of the Wheel. 

pared to say that the association of laborers is a 
mistake.” 

“ But what of the despotism of these associa- 
tions ? It exceeds all other despotisms among us.” 

‘‘If I understand it aright, it does; and 
strong as are my sympathies for all who work at 
any disadvantage, I will never, under any cir- 
cumstances, submit to the dictation of a union. 
Our mills shall stand idle, if I cannot manage 
them at my own discretion ; and as I am a free 
man, I would be free to work, when, where, and 
for what wages I please. No union should bid 
me fold my hands and receive a scanty dole, 
scarce enough to keep soul and body together ; 
when by my own skill and strength I could earn 
sufficient for all my wants. If my workmen 
feel themselves aggrieved, and will come to me 
in a manly way, I will listen to them and en- 
deavor to come to a mutual understanding. 
But the moment they tell me what I can or 
can not do, because some one has told them what 
they shall or shall not do, that moment will in- 
augurate a square fight for the mastery.” 

“ That is what is going on throughout the 
country, and the strife must continue, unless 
one party will yield.” 

“ The strife cannot always continue. One 
party must yield.” 


Teetotalers, 


263 


“ Which will it be ? ” 

“ We shall see, although it requires no prophet 
to tell which will suffer most in the contest. A 
capitalist or a corporation cannot afford to make 
investments which bring no return ; but the 
man who depends upon his daily labor for daily 
bread can still less afford to starve.” 

“Cannot a compromise be effected?” asked 
Mr. Porter, who was quick to appreciate the 
strong common-sense of his companion. “ It 
seems to me if some such man as you would 
address one of the meetings, so often called, his 
words would have a great influence. It must 
be that the minds of some of these men are 
open to conviction.” 

“ Of course they are, but their pledges bind 
them. Men who could not be induced to sign 
a pledge of total abstinence, because they would 
thus sign away their liberty, agree to submit to 
the dictation of men whom they have never 
seen and in whom they have no interest. There 
are many union men in our village, and they arc 
zealous proselytes.” 

“ Then you may expect a strike here at any 
time.” 

“ If there is a strike, it will be wholly without 
excuse. Our manufacturers are willing others 
should live, as well as themselves. Our stores 


264 The Turning of the Wheel. 

are independent concerns, running on their own 
merits ; so that an active competition regulates 
the price of goods. Every dollar of wages 
counts for a dollar with him who earns it.” 

That is more than can be said of all places. 
I know that some small manufacturers, who em- 
ploy from fifty to a hundred hands, make double 
profits by paying ^their help in goods, and I 
have heard of one man who made it a point to 
keep his help in debt to him, and so giving him 
almost absolute control of them. There is 
an abuse of which complaint may be justly 
made.” 

'‘Yes, and the most contemptible kind of 
abuse too. I have known a manufacturer not 
only pay his help principally in goods, but in 
goods of an inferior quality, for which he 
charged exorbitant prices. Such a man started 
a woollen-mill, about three miles above us, but 
after running for a year, he found himself so 
unpopular, he was glad to sell out for much less 
than he had invested. I confess to having done 
what I could to make the place uncomfortable 
for him.” 

“ He received something of his deserts, but 
there are many others who grind the faces of 
the poor, with none to interfere. A man’s 
poverty is his necessity ; and so long as men 


Teetotalers, 265 

must work, or starve, employers will dictate 
their own terms.” 

“Then more is the pity for those who work, 
and more is the shame for those who dictate, if 
justice and brotherly kindness are forgotten. 
You led me into this discussion, Mr. Porter, 
and I have thought so much upon the subject, 
that my thoughts are at my tongue’s end. So I 
have given you the benefit, or the infliction of 
them, as you may count it. Some other time 
we may talk more upon this subject ; now to 
business. I offered you the lumber at a fair 
price.” 

“ I will take it,” was the prompt reply, and 
thus the business was. transacted, leaving Mr. 
Porter at liberty to return to the city in the 
afternoon. 

Before midnight, Percy Tolman had reason 
to bless the friendship for which he had given 
his workmen credit. A fire, threatening the 
destruction of his mills and large quantities of 
lumber, was not discovered until it had made 
such progress that the danger was imminent. 
Two engines, well manned, promptly responded ; 
but owing to some defect, or mismanagement, 
these were soon rendered nearly useless. Then 
it was a hand-to-hand fight with the devouring 
element, and to many it seemed hopeless to at- 


266 


The Turning of the Wheel, 

tempt the unequal contest. Richard Tolman 
was one who thus thought, while his son gave 
orders which were obeyed with a will. At length 
as one, looking to important results, was shout- 
ed forth, it was met by a counter order, in a 
voice which all recognized. 

'‘Mr. Tolman, you are wrong,” was the re- 
sponse which prefaced the counter order; and 
he, quick to see his mistake, acknowledged it. 

“ Mr. Field is right. I yield to him, and you 
will look to him as captain.” 

This was well ; for of all there assembled, 
Mr. Field knew best what should be done. 
Efforts, well - nigh superhuman, were made. 
Each worked as for his own ; the mill hands 
rushing to the most dangerous places, and hold- 
ing them against fearful odds. There was a 
heavy loss, but the destruction was stayed. 

" If them mills had belonged to anybody 
else, there wouldn’t been anything left, more 
than a pile of ashes and blistered machinery,” 
said an old man who was a spectator of the 
scene. “ Money wouldn’t hire men to do what 
has been done to-night. It was nothing but 
love and good-will made them do it, and they 
were worth more to Percy Tolman than all he 
will make for the next five years.” 

Blistered and bleeding hands were unnoticed. 


Teetotalers, 


267 


and fatigue was unheeded, until morning dawned 
and the danger was past. Then, wearily, the 
workers dragged themselves to their homes, yet 
grudged not the strength they had expended. 
Beyond a careful watching of the premises, not 
a stroke of work was done the next day. 

There was rest for all but the proprietor, who 
went from house to house, everywhere welcome, 
and everywhere expressing his gratitude. 

One poor fellow, the president of the temper- 
ance society, who had countermanded the un- 
fortunate order, and who had been seriously 
injured by the falling of some heavy timbers, 
lay helpless upon his back. One leg was broken, 
and the other terribly bruised ; while his hands 
and face were severely burned. Yet, as his em- 
ployer entered his room for the third time that 
day, he looked up and smiled. 

“ I told you I would try and make some re- 
turn to you for your kindness,” he said, after a 
little hesitation. 

“You have paid me a thousand times over,” 
said Percy Tolman, laying a bandaged hand light- 
ly upon the head of the sufferer. “Yes, Mr. 
Field, you have paid me a thousand times over, 
so that I am now in your debt. You did it, too, 
at the risk of your life ; and although I can never 
hope to repay you, what I can do, that I will.” 


268 The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ I am thankful I could do it, Mr. Tolman. 
I don't mind these injuries, received in your 
service. There is something worth more to a 
man than his life ; and you helped me to regain 
it, when I thought it gone forever. You were 
the first person who gave me an encouraging 
word, after I left my father’s house.” 

I was privileged in so doing, but we will 
not talk more of this now ; only be assured that 
I appreciate the efforts you made to save my 
property.” 

With his monthly wages, each man who had 
worked so bravely received extra pay, and not 
long after, the veteran of their ranks, who had 
commenced with the elder Tolman, waited upon 
his employer. 

“You see, Percy, we can’t any of us take 
this,” he said, extending a roll of bank bills. 
“ That is the way we all feel, and they sent me 
back with it. Fighting fire aint like other work, 
and we can’t take pay for it.” 

“ But, Uncle Smith ” 

“ Hold on, boy ; I’ve lived the longest. We 
must have our way about this. The women are 
all on our side, and I sha’n’t carry back a cent of 
this money to the men. If you don’t want it, 
you can put it in the bank for little Bess.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE FOOT OF THE LADDER. 

Mr. Watson, who, twenty years before, left 
the shop in which Carroll and Mitchell had 
learned their trades to cast in his fortune with 
them, still went regularly to his work each day, 
although he was growing to be an old man. 
His home was as luxurious as he desired. He 
had a respectable fund at interest, and con- 
sidered himself as independent as his employers. 
There was no need that he should labor longer, 
but he was healthy and vigorous, with no taste 
for idleness. 

“ ril keep moving till the wheel stops, and 
the machinery runs down,” he said to his chil- 
dren, who remonstrated with him. “ Better 
wear out than rust out. I enjoy my work, and 
there seem to be few who do.” 

To Mr. Carroll, he remarked jestingly that 
he stayed in the shop to give them the benefit 
of one pair of steady hands, and this benefit 
was by no means unappreciated. The old work- 
man’s example was salutary, while in many ways 

(269) 


270 The Tm' 7 ting of the JVheeL 

he contributed to the welfare of those about 
him. When the younger men were disquieted 
by stormy appeals, he came to the rescue ; 
forcing them to yield to his arguments and 
submit to his decisions. 

He was a Christian of intense convictions and 
consistent life. He was a teetotaler of the most 
pronounced type ; ready at any time to defend 
his principles, and using his entire influence to 
prevent the sale of intoxicating liquors in their 
midst. He was quick to see when the enemy 
made a new move to capture the village, and 
reported accordingly. 

There’s a rum-hole opened just over the 
town line ; a saloon, the proprietor calls it, but 
it is what I call a rum-hole,” he said to Orne 
Mitchell, as they met on the street after work- 
ing hours. “ It has been running only two 
days, and I don’t know as we can do anything 
about it, but it will be well to keep a sharp 
lookout for the boys.” 

“ What is the proprietor’s name ? ” 

“ Greyland. He is an Englishman, who has 
been hanging ’round Lowell for several years, 
and as far as I can find out, he has never done 
honest work enough to earn a living.” 

Before coming here, I knew a man of that 
name, and if he proves to be my old acquaint- 


The Foot of the Ladder. 271 

ance, I think we shall have no trouble in rid* 
ding ourselves of him.” 

“ You and Mr. Carroll can do it if anybody 
can. The fact is, Mr. Mitchell, it is a good 
while since we have made any great stir about 
temperance, and it wouldn't be strange if it was 
about time to make a move. There is so much 
happening, these days, all good men need to be 
on the alert. If that saloon is allowed to keep 
open, it will bring trouble to us all.” 

I think we can manage to have it closed,” 
said Orne Mitchell ; and from this interview 
with Mr. Watson he went directly to the house 
of his partner, where he told Mrs. Carroll what 
had been told to him ; asking at last : 

“ Could you recognize Jane’s husband ? ” 

am not sure,” she answered. “He must 
have changed as well as we, but if I could see this 
man, I think I could find a way to satisfy myself 
whether he is the Mr. Greyland we have known.” 

They consulted further together, and the next 
evening drove over to the saloon, which seemed 
to be doing a flourishing business. Mrs. Carroll 
entered the roughly-furnished room first, and 
going up to the bar, addressed the man, who 
paused in the act of pouring out a glass of 
liquor ; looking at her, as if amazed at the pres- 
ence of a lady in such a place. 


272 The Turning of the Wheel. 

‘‘Were you Jane’s husband?” she asked ab- 
ruptly. 

“Jane! Jane!” he repeated, as his cheeks 
paled, and his hands shook. “ What Jane ? My 
wife is dead.” 

“Yes, and you killed her. I recognize you 
now.” 

As Orne Mitchell came to her side, Mrs. 
Carroll said : 

“This man was Jane’s husband.” 

“ I thought so,” replied her companion ; and 
turning to the group of men, standing partly 
within the room, and partly without, he added : 

“ Gentlemen, Mrs. Carroll can tell you some- 
thing of Mr. Greyland’s past life, which, I think, 
will interest you.” 

“What she will tell you is not true,” ex- 
claimed the proprietor of the saloon. “ I am 
not Jane’s husband. I don’t know who she 
means by Jane.” 

“ I mean the woman who worked beside me 
in the mill, and who paid you for the privilege 
of caring for her child and yours ; the boy you 
abused until he became an idiot. Now do you 
know who I mean by Jane?” asked Mrs. Car- 
roll, with a world of scorn in her voice and 
manner. 

“ It is useless for you to deny your identity. 


The Foot of the Ladder. 273 

It is many years since you swore to be revenged 
upon those \Vho helped your wife to escape from 
your tyranny ; and the opening of this saloon is 
perhaps a part of your plan for carrying out 
your threat ; but, Mr. Greyland, it has failed.” 

Having said this, she turned to those who 
waited for the closing of the scene, and in a 
few well-chosen words, she pictured the wrongs 
inflicted upon Mrs. Greyland and her son ; 
denouncing the husband and father a^ a mur- 
derer, liable to punishment ; as there we\^i those 
still living who were ready to testify to his 
cruelty. 

“ Now what does such a man deserve at your 
hands ? ” she asked. 

“ Hanging,” shouted one, and this verdict 
was echoed and re-echoed, until Orne Mitchell 
found it necessary to still the tumult. 

While Mrs. Carroll was speaking, the man be- 
hind the counter stood as if turned to stone, 
but at the first reply to her question, he sprang 
through a back-door, and was lost to sight. 
Some, present, eager for anything which prom- 
ised excitement, would gladly have followed 
him, had they not been restrained ; as, also, they 
were restrained from destroying property to 
which he laid claim. 

The next morning, however, the whole vil- 
18 


2 74 Ttcrning of the Wheel. 

lage was astir with the news that the liquor- 
saloon had been demolished, and its contents 
destroyed. So soon as this was told, care was 
taken that something of the proprietor s history 
should be known ; thus forestalling any sym- 
pathy which might otherwise have been felt for 
him. No one confessed to the destruction of 
this property, and it was certain that no attempt 
would be made to discover the guilty parties. 

One good job is thoroughly done,” said Mr. 
Watson. It was the right place for hatching 
all manner of evil plots ; and if I am not mis- 
taken, some who are pushing for strikes will be 
obliged to hunt up a new place for headquarters. 
Now that is settled, it seems to me a rousing 
temperance meeting would be in order ; and, 
Mitchell, if Carroll would tell us some of his 
experience, it would touch a good many hearts. 
We all know that he began at the foot of the 
ladder.” 

''There is where I began, Mr. Watson.” 

" Yes ; but the foot of your ladder was level 
with the ground, and I have heard that Carroll’s 
rested in a deep pit.” 

"That is true, but he seldom speaks of it.” 

" It cannot be pleasant for him, but I am 
sure he would do it, if anybody could be helped 
by it. We all know that neither of you would 


275 


/ 


The Foot of the Ladder. 


/ivhere you are now, if you had not been 
'otrong temperance men. There is a great deal 
of talk about the poor workingmen, and I, for 
one, am tired of it. We worked long days, 
when wages were lower than they are now, and 
we saved something. Others can do the same.” 

“We understand that, and so, it seems to me, 
all thinking men must understand it.” 

“ They don’t stop to do any good, honest 
thinking about it. That is the great trouble. 
Some talk of you and Carroll as rich men, who 
know nothing of hard work or self-denial. You 
have done your share of work, and you have 
been prospered, and I am glad of it. You have 
always been ready, too, to give a helping hand 
to others.” 

“ We mean to do that. As Christians, we wish 
to do our whole duty in all our relations in life.” 

“ I hope you will consider it your duty to ar- 
range for a union temperance meeting, and give 
me a chance to talk ten minutes ; although, if 
Carroll will tell his story, I will waive my claim. 
Another thing : I wish you and Carroll would 
make it in your way to talk with the men about 
strikes and wages. They will hear to you and 
believe what you say. If we can keep back a 
fuss in the shop, there will be likely to be peace 


276 The Turning of the Wheel, \ 

“You are right, Mr. Watson. Thank ^J^^ou 
for the suggestion,” said Orne Mitchell ; anu 
the old workman left, fully assured that he had 
not spoken in vain. 

The opportunity for a talk about strikes and 
wages soon presented itself ; and after some 
friendly conversation, one remarked : 

“ Capital and labor, together, do a big busi- 
ness, and capital does the managing. We are 
all willing to acknowledge that ; but labor does 
something.” . 

“ It does a great deal, and receives a great 
deal. All things considered, too, I think labor 
receives a fair compensation,” was replied. 

“ That isn’t the way a good many talk, Mr. 
Mitchell. There is a good deal said about 
workingmen not getting their share, and not 
having a chance to do the best they can.” 

“ I know there is, and what does it mean ? 
What does it mean to you, friend’s ? ” 

“ I suppose it means we don’t have as much 
money as we ought to, and so we don’t have a 
chance to go ahead and do great things.” 

“ What great things ? ” 

This question was asked with a smile which 
provoked smiles in return, and after some delay 
an answer was given. 

“ Why, going to Congress and making big 


The Foot of the Ladder. 277 

speeches, so people will praise us; and— and — 
Well, there, I better stop. But you know some 
, men do come up, head and shoulders above 
others, and show the world what grand things 
can be done.” 

“ I know there are such men, and they are 
the rarest gifts God makes to any age. Usually, 
too, they work their way up from poverty and 
obscurity. There is something in them which 
will not be repressed. God gives them talents, 
which they develop by study and hard work, 
such as you and I know nothing about, and they 
deserve the honors they receive. Now, as I 
don’t contribute to the world’s stock the same 
share which these men do, I have no right to 
expect their share of the world’s good things. 
God has made us to differ, and there is no in- 
justice in it. Do the best of which you are 
capable, and you will receive your reward. Let 
me remind you, too, that if the men who talk 
of being slaves to their employers would strike 
for freedom from evil habits and the toils of 
liquor-sellers, they would find their condition 
greatly improved. But I will not preach you a 
temperance lecture. That is to come later, with 
a better speaker than myself.” 

James Carroll was not accustomed to public 
speaking, but he had a story to tell, and a lesson 


278 The Turning of the Wheel. 

to inculcate. On a pleasant Sabbath evening 
he arose before a large audience ; his face sad- 
der than Its wont, and his whole manner ex- 
pressive of deep feeling. 

After speaking of temperance in a general 
way, he related many facts which had come 
under his own observation ; tracing the fortunes 
of men who had worked side by side with him ; 
some of whom had risen to positions of trust, 
while others had sunk into poverty and disgrace. 

He showed how small savings may be made 
the foundation of ample fortunes ; showing, 
also, how easily these small sums may be squan- 
dered. He appealed to every motive which 
could be supposed to have power over those be- 
fore him, to induce them to give their influence 
against the use of all alcoholic liquors. 

At last he spoke of himself ; of his childhood 
and of his childhood’s home ; of his mother’s 
death, and the promise he had then made never 
to taste the accursed drink. 

“ If I had once tasted it, I should probably 
have become a drunkard ; perhaps long since 
dead ; or if not dead, I might be a poor, wretch- 
ed, degraded man, such as I sometimes see stag- 
gering through the streets of our cities ; so far 
down in the social scale, that he seems hardly 
human. 


The Foot of the Ladder. 279 

Thank God for my mother s teachings, and 
for the promise she exacted from me. That 
promise, with God’s kind care, has been my sal- 
vation. I have suffered much, borne much of 
injustice and cruelty ; but, thank God, I am 
not a drunkard. Better anything than that. 
Yes, my friends, better anything than that. 

“ To be a drunkard is to be the embodiment 
of all wretchedness and misery ; of all sorrow 
and disgrace. It is to go down into the very 
depths of all things foul and loathsome. It is 
to bring keenest anguish to those who love you, 
and entail upon those who come after you, as 
bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh, an 
appetite for strong drink, which is, in itself, the 
direst curse. 

“Thank God, I am not a drunkard. In all 
the dark days which have come to me, I had 
that for which to be thankful. So long as I 
was not a drunkard, there was the possibility of 
a better fortune for me. 

“ I was a bound boy. Do you know what 
that means, when the master is cruel and avari- 
cious, with no fear of God before his eyes, and 
no love in his heart ? It means the hardest lot 
and no wages ; long days, and no comfortable 
place to rest at night. It means the coarsest 
food, and hardly enough of that to keep the 


28 o 


The Turning of the WheeL 

body in working order. It means cold and 
hunger and fatigue ; such as I pray God my 
bitterest enemy may never know. 

These are some of the things being a bound 
boy means to me ; and I was a bound boy, be- 
cause my father was a drunkard. But these are 
not the hardest things to bear. The hardest of 
all is to have no one to help you, no one to love 
you, no one to care whether you live or die. 
This I was mercifully spared. I had one to love 
me and help me. She was poor as I was, my- 
self, but she went without food, that she might 
give it to me, and she kept some hope in 
my heart, when otherwise I might have de- 
spaired.” 

James Carroll was not wont to talk of the 
most sacred experiences of his life. It was no 
pleasure to him to recall the years when he had 
worked and lived like a slave. He had done 
this now with a purpose ; and that his purpose 
was accomplished, the eloquent faces and tear- 
ful eyes uplifted to his fully testified. He sat 
down amid a profound silence, which continued 
until it became absolutely painful. 

As no one could add to what had been said, 
it remained only to present the pledge, which 
was eagerly signed by many who had before 
ridiculed all efforts in behalf of temperance. 


The Foot of the Ladder. 


281 


Outside the hall, comments were made in a sub- 
dued tone. No one who had listened to the 
speaker but could remember a happier youth 
than he ; and with this thought, envy and jeal- 
ousy were banished. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE NEW BOSS. 

For various reasons Mr. Yates felt it neces- 
sary to make some changes among his assist- 
ants ; and wishing for a reliable man to take a 
general oversight of business during his frequent 
absences from home, he consulted his brother- 
in-law, Percy Tolman, in regard to a suitable 
person for this position. 

“ I have just the man for you,” was quickly 
responded. “ He came to me, a drunkard and 
an outcast ; now, he is a consistent Christian. 
His talents and education fit him to be a leader, 
and I will go bail for his honesty. If you can 
secure his services and win his friendship, you 
will have a stanch supporter whose head is al- 
ways level.” 

George Field, upon whom such high praise 
was bestowed, had kept himself constantly in- 
formed of the welfare of his father’s famil}^, yet 
never a word did they hear from him. He had 
gone out from them disgraced ; he would not 
return until they would welcome him proudly. 

(282) 


The New Boss. 


283 


Actual hard work, under the direction of 
others, had welded the somewhat conflicting 
elements of his character into a compact and 
symmetrical whole. At first, the work had ex- 
hausted him, but gradually he gained health and 
strength, until at the time of the fire, the rough- 
est man could hardly compete with him where 
physical endurance was required. 

With skillful medical treatment and kind 
care, he soon recovered from his injuries, and 
proposed to take his old place in the lumber 
mills, when he was called elsewhere. As the 
preliminaries were settled before meeting Mr. 
Yates, they were not long in concluding an ar- 
rangement which promised to be of mutual ad- 
vantage. 

He went to Yatesville, prepared to see life 
under a different phase from what it had yet 
been revealed to him, but he found human 
nature the same there as elsewhere. The same 
passions held sway, while the same influences 
were undermining or building up. The same 
motives, too, might be brought to bear upon 
these men as upon others. It was easy to see 
that they were not living at their best. There 
were discontent and impatience. The cry, re- 
peated through all the centuries, was here 
heard : 


284 The Turning of the Wheel, 

‘‘Why have we been made to differ?” 

“ The new boss ” was the object of universal 
attention and criticism. Old Mike declared his 
opinion, when he said: 

“ Sure, Misther Faild is a gintleman, every 
inch, and that’s a many. Path, don’t he say 
‘ sir’ to me, as if I was the masther himself. But 
mind ye, b’ys, and not thry yer foolin’ on 
him. He’s that sharp, ye’ll niver come out 
ahead.” 

No one presumed to dissent from this ; and 
as time went on, although many watched for an 
opportunity to complain of Mr. Field, none was 
found. He was new to the business ; but his 
habits of observation and ready tact soon made 
him sufficiently acquainted, to act with judg- 
ment and ability. 

Some faces strongly attracted him, while by 
others he was as strongly repelled. When 
Robert Masters was introduced to him, he was 
sure there was one with whom he could claim 
intellectual kinship. 

“Splendid fellow,” said Mr. Yates, as they 
walked on. “A mystery too. No one knows 
whence he came, and faithful as he is, I am 
always expecting he will leave me without a 
day’s notice. You must make the acquaintance 
of his mother. Madam Masters, as we call her. 


The New Boss. 285 

My wife says she is the lady of the place, and 
a regal woman indeed she is.” 

“ What of his father ? ” 

“ That is the mystery. No one has ever heard 
Robert speak of his father. He came here, 
with his mother, six years ago, and they have 
been so guarded, as never to give a clue to their 
past history. They receive no letters, and Madam 
Masters has not been out of the village since 
she came here. Yet I trust them, as I trust 
but few.” 

Not long after this, Mr. Field joined Robert 
Masters, as they were leaving The Works, and 
walking on together, was invited to enter the 
cottage. As it chanced, he had not before seen 
the young man’s mother ; and notwithstanding 
all which had been told him, he was surprised 
at her looks and appearance. Rude surround- 
ings and coarse garments could not conceal her 
inbred grace and dignity, while the entire ar- 
rangement of the room into which he had been 
ushered betrayed the tastes of the occupants. 

''You have a variety of reading,” remarked 
the guest. 

"Yes, sir; we enjoy reading,” was replied. 
"Many of these books belong to Mr. Yates,” 
added the hostess quickly, as a classical diction- 
ary was opened. 


286 


The Tur^ting of the Wheel. 

Without heeding this, Mr. Field asked Robert : 

“ Do you read Latin ? ” 

“A little,” answered Robert with some hesi- 
tation. I have only mother for a teacher, and 
it is so long since she studied it, we make slow 
progress.” 

wish you would allow me to read with 
you. I ought to understand it, although for 
the last four years I have hardly looked in a 
Latin book.” 

No communication was observed between 
the mother and son, and yet this must have 
been, before the latter replied cordially, thank- 
ing Mr. Field for his kind proposal This led 
to further conversation, in which it was dis- 
covered that the two young men had many sym- 
pathies in common. The elder was glad to re- 
ceive permission to repeat the visit at pleasure, 
and after a few evenings spent in the small 
kitchen, felt himself quite at home with Madam 
and Robert Masters. He told them something 
of his early friends ; and of the ambitions of his 
boyhood, which had so sadly failed of their real- 
ization. 

“ I sold my birthright for a mess of poisoned 
pottage,” he said bitterly, when referring to his 
past dissipation. “ It was a fool’s bargain, yet 
others are making the same all over the country. 


The New Boss. 287 

The use of intoxicating liquor is the curse of 
our land.” 

“ And of all other lands,” responded Madam 
Masters. “ It is the curse of the world.” 

Indeed it is. It curses all, rich and poor. 
If we could banish it from our great working 
centres, there would be little cause for com- 
plaint of hard times. The artisans of any trade, 
either in this country or Europe, spend enough 
for liquor and tobacco to give to every man of 
them a comfortable provision for old age. Un- 
skilled laborers, too, spend in the same propor- 
tion. Some would call that an extravagant as- 
sertion, but it has been made by others better 
qualified to judge than myself ; and so far as 
my observation goes, I know it to be true.” 

I have no doubt of its truth,” said the 
hostess. “ One only needs to look around here, 
to be convinced of it, and this is by no means 
the worst place of its kind.” 

Far from it. Mr. Yates’ influence is on the 
side of temperance.” 

“Mr. Yates is all right, but the men are im- 
patient at anything like dictation in regard to 
their habits,” remarked Robert. “ They say they 
have the same right as rich people to spend 
money as they please.” 

“ In one sense that is true ; in another it is 


288 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

false. If a man has a family dependent upon 
him, the less money he has, the greater is his 
obligation to spend it to the best advantage. 
The rich man may ruin himself, soul and body, 
by the use of liquor, without taking bread from 
his children, or comfortable clothing from his 
wife.” 

'' It often comes to that, Mr. Field. Many 
a rich man has beggared himself and his family 
by squandering his estate for liquor.” 

“That is true, Mrs. Masters. There are few 
fortunes so large that prodigal habits will not 
diminish them, and the mismanagement of a 
drunkard ultimately waste altogether. But the 
poor man has his fortune to make, and that can 
only be done by saving a part of his earnings.” 

“Yes, Mr. Field; the poor man must look 
to himself for help, if he is ever to improve his 
condition. If he could be made to believe 
that, what an amount of misery would be pre- 
vented ! I often think that, if I were a man, I 
would spend my life in preaching that one doc- 
trine.” 

“ Do it now, Mrs. Masters. You could not 
engage in a higher mission. It is a truth the 
world needs to hear spoken lovingly and per- 
suasively. There is too much of dictation and 
denunciation ; too much of reckless haste and 


The New Boss, 


289 


arrogant assumption ; and nowhere are these 
seen more plainly than among the so-called 
working classes. 

“Then there is the cursed drink, to influence 
all the lowest, most brutal passions ; and so well 
known is its power in this direction, that it is 
counted upon when men are to be influenced 
against their better judgment. Thousands thus 
find themselves committed to courses of action 
they would otherwise have carefully avoided. 
There is poor Pat Burns. He is loyal to Mr. 
Yates, and determined to join no society from 
which he will receive orders, but I have reason 
to know that there is a plan afoot to compel 
him to drink liquor, and then get his signature 
where they fancy it will hold him. You know 
about it, Robert.” 

“ I do, and so does Old Mike, and we are ex- 
pecting an attack upon Pat at any time. It is 
as likely to come to-night as later. They count 
upon his superstition, as well as his appetite for 
liquor, and it will go hard with him, unless some 
friend appears to help him.” 

“ Then I must be on the watch, and if you 
hear a prolonged, mournful cry, understand that 
I am calling you to the rescue.” 

“ I understand, and will make quick response 
to your call.” 

19 


290 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

This promise may have had an effect to ren- 
der Robert Masters more than usually restless ; 
which restlessness was shared by his mother, so 
that the cottage seemed to them almost a prison. 
To escape from this they went out, and walking 
a short distance,*stood upon an eminence where 
they couM look down upon the great smelting- 
stack, sometimes illumined with flame, and 
sometimes enveloped in clouds of smoke. 

“ There is something fearfully grand about it 
all,” said Robert. “ When I first saw it, it 
seemed to me the very demons were at work ; 
now it gives me the idea of power and develop- 
ment. It is not one blow of the hammer, but 
many which compresses the ball into good, mal- 
leable iron. It is like the discipline of our lives, 
mother. There is one blow after another, until 
we are fitted for our best work.” 

Yes, Robert, that is the discipline, and God 
knows what we need. But our poor hearts 
shrink from the blows, and scarce can bear the 
pain they give. I am thankful that you will 
outlive the pain.” 

And you, mother ? ” 

“ I bide my fate as God wills it. I have been 
happier since I came here, than I had dreamed 
I ever could be. You have not disappointed 
me, my son ” 


The New Boss. 


291 


“ And never will, mother. I am loyal to you 
and to my oath, and I shall bind myself by no 
pledges which will ever interfere.” 

“ I hope not, Robert. There is trouble 
enough everywhere, without help from you.” 

'' I shall not add to it, but there is trouble 
coming. The men are grumbling, and demand- 
ing higher wages, which Mr. Yates will not give 
them, and there will probably be a strike. A 
great effort is being made to bring every man 
into it. Don’t fear for me,” added the speaker, 
as he felt the tightening clasp of his mother’s 
hand. “ I have not escaped from one tyrant to 
swear blind allegiance to any other man, or body 
of men. In this country all are free, and I 
wonder that freedom is not more highly prized.” 

There was no demonstration that night, as 
had been feared, but it was only delayed. An- 
other night was chosen for the interview with 
Pat Burns, and but for the unexpected appear- 
ance of Mr. Field, the man might have been 
frightened into yielding to the demands of his 
■ghostly visitors. As it was, they were glad to 
beat a retreat, although they were not allowed 
to do this until the masks had been stripped 
from their faces and their identity assured. In 
this work, Robert Masters, who seemed to be 
always on the alert, gave most efficient aid. He 


292 The Turning of the Wheel. 

heard the signal agreed upon, and with a shout 
and a bound, sprang into the thickest of the 
fray. 

“ I wish we were away from here,” he said to 
his mother, after reporting what had occurred. 

Where should we go ? ” she asked. 

I don’t know,” was replied. I don’t know 
of any place better for us than this ; but for the 
next three months there will be no peace here.” 

“ Do you fear for yourself, my son ?” 

“No, mother, nor for you. The men who 
tried their strength with me to-night, will not 
care to make the trial again, and there is not a 
man here who would presume to treat you with 
disrespect. But there will be a demand for the 
dismissal of Mr. Field ; and of course Mr. 
Yates will refuse to grant the demand. If Mr. 
Field was the real master here, there would be a 
clearing out to-morrow morning. It made me 
think of ” 

“ I know, Robert, but don’t speak of it. You 
have nothing to fear, now you are twenty-one 
years of age. I have breathed more freely since 
then, yet I know better than you with whom 
you would have to deal, should you ever meet 
our common enemy.” 

Mr. Yates was away, and it was thought best 
that he should transact his business uninfluenced 


The New Boss. 


293 


by what had transpired ; so that he reached 
home ignorant of what awaited him ; yet he 
was hardly surprised. In different parts of the 
country there were strikes and rumors of strikes, 
with all their attendant evils. 

“ I suppose it will come to that,” he said to 
Mr. Field, who repeated a threat he had over- 
heard made by one of the workmen. 

“ I presume it will. The men are getting 
more excited every day, and I am sure that sev- 
eral of them are drinking heavily. I don’t 
know where they get their liquor, unless there 
is some moonshiner higher up on the moun- 
tain.” 

“ Liquor makes more than half the trouble 
with workmen anyway, and I have often wished 
that I had followed Percy Tolman’s example ; 
refusing to employ any man who ever tastes of 
liquor. It would be hard to do it now, but if I 
had begun in that way, I should have avoided a 
great deal of trouble. 

“ Men who drink liquor are not reliable in 
any kind of business. I have done my best to 
keep it out of our village, but it seems that my 
efforts have failed. When Percy is through 
college and ready to take his part of the busi- 
ness, I hope he will do better than I have.” 


CHAPTER XXL 


,AMES GRESHAM CARROLL. 

Robert Masters, I wish to make you ac- 
quainted with my friend, James Gresham Car- 
roll He has a fancy for his whole name, and I 
sometimes make use of it to oblige him.” 

“ Robert Masters, I am happy to meet you,” 
said the stranger, extending his hand. 

“ Thank you ; I am happy to meet you, sir, 
but my hands are too much soiled to meet other 
hands,” replied Robert Masters. 

“Will you shake hands with me?” asked 
Gresham Carroll, in a tone which could hardly 
be resisted. “ I am an iron-worker, myself, and 
know all about soiled hands.” 

“ You ought to shake hands,” now said Percy 
Yates, glancing from one to the other with a 
puzzled expression upon his face. “You look 
enough alike to be brothers. You remember, 
Gresham, that I have often told you, you re- 
minded me of another person. Now I know 
that Robert Masters is the other person. Any- 
body could see the resemblance, and Robert is 
like his mother.” 

(294) 


y antes Greshatn Carroll. 295 

“ He looks like my father, only he is hand- 
somer. They have the same eyes.” 

I am complimented,” said the young man. 

“ Indeed you are ; more than you know,” was 
Percy Yates’ rejoinder “ Mr. Carroll is a grand 
man every way. I like compliments, but as I 
see no chance for me at present, I am more 
anxious to find Mr. Field, than to compliment 
myself. He is a rare man for us to have here, 
Robert.” 

He is, and I hope he will stay.” 

‘‘He will, if money can keep him. There is 
going to be a fuss ? ” 

This last spoken interrogatively, and in a low 
tone, was answered with the same caution. 

“ It looks like it.” 

“ I am sorry. Father intends to treat his work- 
men well, and he has yielded to them a good 
many times, rather than have trouble. But he 
cannot give up always. I would not have be- 
lieved there was a man here who would do what 
was done at Pat Burns’. I don’t believe, now, 
they would have done it, if they had not been 
under the influence of liquor. If I was master, 
every masked and sheeted man would have left the 
place within twenty-four hours of the outrage.” 

“Tell them so. Coming from you, it will 
have a great influence.” 


296 The Turning of the Wheel, 

“ I wish it might come from my father. I 
don’t know who they are, neither do I wish to 
know, if they are to remain here, but I shall 
express my opinion upon the subject, whenever 
there is an opportunity.” 

Percy Yates expected to share his father’s 
business, and was, therefore, more interested 
than he would otherwise have been. This fact, 
also, gave him greater influence with the work- 
men. He was welcomed heartily, and after the 
hand-shaking to which he submitted, no one 
could accuse him of being over-fastidious in re- 
gard to grime and dirt. Last, but not least, 
was Old Mike, who shouted for very gladness. 

Path, b’y, it’s welcome ye are as sunlight 
in June,” exclaimed the old man. “Ye’re 
wanted right here to fight the murtherin’ wretches 
that would be afther drivin’ us all. Bad luck to 
ivery mither’s son of ’em.” 

“They would find bad luck, if I had the 
management of them. I don’t think I am very 
hard-hearted, but I should enjoy seeing them 
punished.” 

“ Path, Pm wid ye there. But they’re not 
as bad as thim that’s puttin’ them up to their 
tricks. Be sure ye kape Misther Paild. He’s a 
gintleman, ivery inch, and he says he has been 
in the gutther, like the commonest of us. ’Twas 


James Gresham Carroll. 297 

the dhrink that did it, and it’s that same that 
makes the throuble all ’round. Bliss yer father 
for bringin’ me the plidge and persuadin’ me to 
put me name to it. The ould woman knows 
what that has done for me.” 

“We all know something about it, Mike. 
The keeping of the pledge has put more than 
one thousand dollars in the bank for you.” 

“ That it has, and saved me from wickedness 
too. It was the same plidge that took Misther 
Faild from the gutther.” 

“Yes, and he won’t be likely to get into the 
gutter again.” 

“ No, fath, nor let anither he can kape out.” 

This conversation was continued, but we will 
turn to Robert Masters, who had no sooner en- 
tered his mother’s cottage, than he asked her if 
she had seen the young man with Percy Yates. 

“ Yes,” she answered. 

“ Does he look like me ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Percy said we looked enough alike to be 
brothers, and the young man said I looked like 
his father. He may be ” 

“ Don’t, Robert. I have no wish to go back. 
I depend upon you, and desire no more. You 
can make your own future and your own friends. 
Are you not satisfied with that ?” 


2gS The Ttcrning of the Wheel, 

‘‘ Satisfied with that and you, mother. But 
this young man will be sure to come here, and 
you must see him.” 

“ I never refuse to see any one. But don’t 
talk of it. You are all the world to me.” 

Mr. Yates spent a large part of the night in 
consultation with Mr. Field, and the next morn- 
ingr nine men were notified that their services 

o 

would be no longer required at The Works. 
Nothing was said of the outrage they had com- 
mitted, beyond a brief statement of the reasons 
for their dismissal. Their families could remain 
in the houses they now occupied until these 
houses were wanted for other tenants. 

They were all poor men, who could illy afford 
to be idle ; but they had been ringleaders in 
every revolt, and it was time they were taught 
a lesson. All, without exception, also, were 
men who had persistently maintained their right 
to use intoxicating liquors as they pleased. 
They left the office in sullen silence, and within 
two hours they had decided upon a course of ac- 
tion by which they fancied they could bring the 
master to their terms and send the new boss back 
to the place from whence he had come. There 
were iron men enough upon whom they could 
depend, and in case of an emergency, they would 
not be over-scrupulous as to ways and means. 


James Gresham Carroll. 299 

A meeting, having for its object “a free dis- 
cussion of the relations of labor and capital,” 
was advertised to be holden in a neighboring 
town the following week. Speakers from abroad 
were expected, and every workingman was 
urged to be present. This was the public an- 
nouncement ; while privately, notice was given 
that at the close of the meeting, important busi- 
ness would be transacted. Of course, funds 
would be required to meet expenses, and efforts 
were made to obtain voluntary contributions. 

“Ivery workin’man, is it, that’s wanted at 
the matin’,” exclaimed Old Mike, with his in- 
imitable brogue. “ Path, I hope there’ll not 
one from hare be runnin’ afther the spalpanes.” 

“ But what if we should take the teams and 
all go?” asked Percy Yates. 

“ Path, that might do. But ye can’t be man- 

• y * j. y} 

m It. 

'' I do mean it. We are all interested to hear 
the famous speaker from abroad, and I think 
we will go.” 

“It can’t be ye mane it,” again said the Irish- 
man, but Percy Yates did mean just that. 

Mr. Pield had proposed that capital, as well 
as labor, be represented at this meeting, and also 
that conveyance be furnished for every man in 
the hamlet who could be induced to attend. 


300 The Turning of the Wheel, 

This was a grand stroke of policy, quickly rec- 
ognized, and heartily commended by him at 
whose expense it was carried into effect. 

Other iron masters were notified, and there 
was a much larger attendance than had been 
expected or desired. Old Mike, Pat Burns, and 
a few others who could be relied upon were left 
at home to care for The Works, and afterward 
learn what they could of the wonderful meet- 
ing from Masther Percy’s report. “ An’ sure, 
wouldn’t they be havin’ all the crame from him, 
an’ niver a dhrap of skim milk.” 

Robert Masters wished to be left with them, 
but his mother insisted that he should go, and 
at last persuaded him to do so. For some rea- 
son, however, he refused to ride with the son 
of his employer ; choosing, rather, to identify 
himself with his fellow-workmen. 

“ I can’t make Robert out since I came home,” 
was the comment upon this coldness. ‘‘ He 
avoids me, and so does his mother. She has 
not been in the house this vacation. I have 
always been to her cottage as unceremoniously 
as to Pat Burns’ ; now I feel like an intruder 
whenever I venture to call. I don’t believe 
you have had a single good look at Madam 
Masters’ face.” 

I certainly have not,” was the reply of 


yames Gresham Carroll, 


301 


Gresham Carroll. “ What can be the reason ? 
You had told me so much of her and her son, 
I had woven quite a romance, in which they 
were the principal actors.” 

“ I presume there has been a romance, or a 
tragedy, in which they were prominent actors, 
and I have always hoped that Robert would 
sometime give me his confidence ; but as things 
go now, we are getting further and further apart. 
I think Mr. Field understands him better than 
any one else, for all their acquaintance has been 
so short. They read Latin together, and Madam 
Masters reads it too. It took Mr. Field to make 
that discovery. There they are, now, together, as 
might be expected. The next time I see Robert 
alone, I shall ask him why he gives me the cold 
shoulder as he does.” 

Percy Yates and his friend were walking 
through the principal street of the town in which 
the meeting was to be held when these remarks 
were made, and their attention was soon di- 
verted. They noted the appearance of differ- 
ent groups of men ; some talking earnestly, as 
though important interests were under consider- 
ation ; and some lounging idly, as though they 
had neither part nor lot in the business of the 
evening. 

The party from Yatesville was large, and the 


302 The Tit}' fling of the Wheel. 

men who had been discharged from The Works 
chose to occupy a prominent position in the 
hall. Having been offered a ride with others, 
they had accepted the favor, without hesitation 
or apparent embarrassment. 

The meeting was opened in the usual manner 
by one well known to many present ; and after 
speaking for a few minutes, he gave place to 
another, whom he introduced as a gentleman 
qualified to treat the subject before them fairly 
and intelligently. 

The gentlem.an thus introduced came forward 
from the recess in which he had been sitting, 
and where he was partially concealed from the 
audience. He was a stranger, whose appearance 
could not fail to impress all who looked upon 
his clear-cut, intellectual face. 

Hair of raven blackness, threaded here and 
there with silver, was swept back from a broad, 
high forehead, beneath which shone darkly lus- 
trous eyes, whose depths few could hope to 
fathom. Lip and chin were clean shaven, so 
that not a line or curve was lost ; while the 
long, silky beard, falling from either side of the 
face, but served as a foil to the handsome 
features. 

He advanced slowly, gracefully, and with the 
ease of one accustomed to address large audi- 


yames Gresham Carroll. 303 

ences. His tall, symmetrical figure needed no 
advantages of dress, yet to a practiced eye it 
was plain that from the loosely-knotted scarf, 
to the faultlessly-fitting boot, every effect had 
been studied. It surely must have been, or he 
would never have appeared, on such an occasion, 
clad in garments coarse and cheap as those of 
the poorest before him. 

It is not necessary to my purpose that I quote 
from his address, which continued for nearly an 
hour, one uninterrupted flow of well -chosen 
words and well-rounded periods. It was not all 
it seemed to the majority of those who heard it ; 
neither was it all which had been expected by 
those who engaged the services of Walter Mark- 
ham, at what might justly be called an exorbi- 
tant price. He was disappointed in finding so 
many capitalists before him, and in the short 
time which intervened between entering the hall 
and rising to speak, he entirely changed the plan 
of his lecture. 

Others have spoken far more bitterly than did 
he ; although he denounced the capitalists of 
the country as oppressors and tyrants, revelling 
in luxury, while those who do their bidding, and 
so add to their wealth, receive scanty pittance for 
the toil which makes the toiler in very deed a 
slave. 


304 The Turiting of the Wheel. 

Claiming to know the wrongs and needs of 
workingmen, he appealed to them to assert their 
independence and demand a just return for their 
labor. He assured them that, as God had made 
of one flesh all who dwell upon the face of the 
earth, they had a right to their full share of all 
which money could buy. He made some pa- 
thetic allusions to the ties of family ; the love 
which every true husband and father feels for 
wife and children, who are dearer to him than 
his own life ; and in closing, he drew a picture 
of what the workingman’s home should be, 
might be, and will be, when wealth is equally 
distributed, and poverty is unknown. 

He sat down amid a burst of applause, and 
when this had ceased, there was a call for vol- 
unteer speaking. Instantly, George Field re- 
sponded, walked down the aisle, and springing 
to the platform, thanked the chairman of the 
meeting for the opportunity which had been 
given. 

I am a workingman,” he said. “ What I 
need is a chance to work, fair wages, and a just 
appreciation of my privileges and duties. That 
is what workingmen all need, and what most of 
us can obtain. In some few instances this may 
be impossible ; but I think I may safely say 
that there is not a man before me who cannot 


James Gresham Carroll. 305 

earn a comfortable living, if he has comfortable 
health. 

Now of what can we justly complain ? That 
we are obliged to earn our daily bread by daily 
toil ? Shall we complain because others are 
richer than we ; because others can live in ele- 
gant houses, while we live in plain cottages ? 

“Are you the poorer, because another man 
counts his wealth by millions ? Could you have 
acquired those millions, if he had not ? Would 
they have come to you freely, as come the air 
and the sunshine ? 

“ They did not come thus to their present pos- 
sessors. They would not come thus to you. 
They were the wages for some service rendered ; 
or possibly, the ill-gotten gains from some dis- 
honest transaction. If for service, you have no 
right to them, as you did not perform the ser- 
vice, and a man should be above dishonesty, 
whatever its reward. 

“ I am not wronged because I have not those 
millions. I am not wronged because I am not 
a prince of the blood royal. I am not wronged 
because I have not the talents of a Webster.” 

“ You have talents enough. Go ahead. That 
is the best of anything we have heard to-night. 
Give us some more of the same sort.” 

This homely praise, with the accompanying 


20 


3o6 The Turning of the Wheel. 

injunctions, was bestowed by some one in a re- 
mote part of the hall, and it is possible it might 
have elicited a contradictory response, had not 
the speaker continued, with scarce a pause to 
mark the interruption. 

“If every man throughout the length and 
breadth of our land, lived in as humble a dwell- 
ing as the poorest man before me, would that 
add one whit to the comfort of such a dwelling ? 
If every man worked with his hands, as have 
you and I, would our labor be thereby lightened ? 
If every man wore the coarsest of garments, 
would that fact make them less coarse ? 

“ What if we stood upon a level in all things ; 
if by no possibility we could rise above this 
plane, or sink below it? Would you be hap- 
pier than now? No, my friends; a thousand 
times no. The fact that you can rise is the one 
thing which makes life desirable and labor hon- 
orable. The fact, too, that you can sink lower, 
and still lower, gives to life a fearful significance, 
and to every habit of thought and action, a meas- 
ureless importance. 

“ Your homes may be as happy as the homes 
upon which are expended tens of thousands of 
dollars each year. Your wives and children may 
receive as loving care as the wives and children 
of the wealthiest men in the country. But you, 


Jaynes Gresham Carroll. 307 

your very selves, must help to make these homes 
happy ; you, your very selves, must bestow the 
loving care, so often craved in vain.” 

Speaking rapidly, making one point after an- 
other, Mr. Field continued his appeals, until his 
observant eye noted the first signs of discontent 
in his audience, when he said : 

“ Lastly, my friends, and I tell you, as one 
who knows by bitter experience whereof he af- 
firms : you cannot spend your money for the 
drink which will curse you, and have that same 
money to spend for what would bless you.” 


CHAPTER XXIL 


A STRANGE NIGHT. 

Where was Robert Masters? 

No one had seen him leave the hall. Indeed, 
no one could be found who remembered seeing 
him after the opening of the meeting. Mr. 
Field and Percy Yates made thorough search ; 
and when compelled to leave without him, did 
so most reluctantly. 

“ Mr. Field, what is the matter with Robert ? 
asked Percy, as they drove out of the town. 

“ I don’t understand you,” was the reply. I 
have seen nothing amiss with him.” 

“ I have. He avoids me whenever he can ; 
and when this is impossible, he treats me as an 
intruder. I had calculated on having Gresham 
see a good deal of him and his mother. They 
are the only mysterious people we have in Yates- 
ville ; my stock in trade for all possible romances 
and tragedies, and I am not willing to give them 
up. I wished Robert to ride with us, this even- 
ing, but he refused. Do you know why ? ” 

“I do not. In some ways, I think I under- 

(308) 


A Strange Night. 309 

stand him ; in others, he is as great a mystery to 
me as he is to you.” 

“ I hope you will gain his confidence. He is 
a splendid fellow, who for some reason has 
missed his true place in the world. The first 
opportunity I have, I shall ask him squarely 
why he avoids me.” 

Meanwhile, Robert Masters was at home with 
his mother ; doors and windows fast closed, and 
the two conversing in scarcely audible whispers. 
The young man could not tell how he had 
reached here. He only knew that a sudden 
terror had seized him, and with the instinct of 
a hunted animal he had rushed homeward. 

“Mother, I have seen him.” 

Madam Masters did not ask to whom refer- 
ence was made, as this was hoarsely whispered 
in her ear. Throwing out her hands blindly, as 
if for support, she murmured : 

“God help us! Where?” 

“ He addressed the meeting ; pleading the 
cause of workingmen against their employers, 
and the cause of all who are down-trodden and 
oppressed.” 

“ The hypocrite ! But tell me how he looks. 
Is he still handsome?” 

“Just the same, mother. I don’t wop^der 
people believe what he says.” 


310 The Turning of the Wheel, 

Surely, I ought not to wonder. I believe 
he could charm me into doubting the evidence 
of my own senses. I would rather die than see 
him.” 

“ We must leave here, mother.” 

“ Where shall we go ?” 

“ Anywhere away from here. He may come 
here. He is to be paid for travelling through 
the country and making speeches. That is what 
I heard this evening.” 

“ He has no claim upon you, Robert.” 

But you, mother ? ” 

“The laws of this country will give me re- 
lease from him, and I shall find a way of escape. 
Pray God I may not see him ”; and the woman 
covered her face with her hands. 

She was a child again ; an orphan, poor and 
neglected. Then dawned a brighter day, when 
in a luxurious home she half forgot the deso- 
lation of the past. Years went by. To this 
home came one who wooed her to be his bride ; 
wooed her with words so sweet and dear, looked 
into her eyes with eyes so full of strange, tender 
light, that her heart leaped responsive to the 
call. Her pulses thrilled, even now, at the 
memory of those days, when life was all for 
10 and love made very Heaven. 

that it was not always thus ! She shud- 


A Strange Night, 3 1 1 

dered as she recalled the years which followed, 
when she had cowered as a slave at the feet of 
t a master, who was himself a slave to the most 
debasing passions. One only hope remained to 
her. Her boy, her brave, true-hearted boy, 
more like to her than to his father, gave prom- 
ise of a noble manhood. At length, when she 
could endure no more, she gathered up what re- 
mained to her of strength and womanly pride, 
and determined to leave home and country. 

In this, Robert was her confidant and adviser. 
He would go anywhere with her, work for her, 
and help to make for her a new life. He had 
shared deeply in the cruelty to which she had 
been subjected, and was ready, at any sacrifice, 
to protect her against his father. 

This he voluntarily promised ; and then, 
kneeling at her feet, he repeated at her dicta- 
tion, an oath by which he bound himself never 
to taste intoxicating drink. If she could have 
made the oath more impressive, she would surely 
have done so ; since it was a pledge against the 
only danger she feared for her son. 

All this passed in rapid review before her on 
this eventful evening, and now she must pre- 
pare herself to meet the future. 

“ It is not best for us to leave here,” she said 
after a short silence. “ We have friends here, 


3 1 2 The Turning of the WheeL 

and we may need friends. I am sure we can 
depend upon Mr. Yates.” 

“ Yes, mother, and upon Mr. Field. When 
he has talked so frankly of his own past life, I 
have longed to tell him of mine.” 

“You can tell him, and tell him at once. He 
will not betray us unless it is necessary, and 
then facts may corroborate our words. You 
had better go out to meet him.” 

This was her hour of weakness, and she 
would be alone. She prayed, she entreated that 
this cup might pass from her ; that he who had 
blighted her life might not be permitted to come 
into her presence. 

“ O Lord, grant me this one petition, and the 
salvation of my son. All things else I can en- 
dure. Saviour, Almighty, aid me.” 

Thus she prayed, until her fears were stilled, 
and there came to her a sense of protection. 

To Robert Masters-, who waited the coming 
of his friend, time dragged wearily, as he paced 
to and fro the secluded path leading from his 
mother’s cottage to the house of Mr. Yates. 
At length he heard voices ; heard his own name 
coupled with expressions of solicitude, and 
never were words more welcome. Another mo- 
ment, and familiar steps approached. 

“ M/. Field,” he exclaimed joyfully. 


313 


A Strange NigJiL 

'‘Yes; here I am, in search of you,” was re- 
plied. “ Where have you been ? How did you 
get here ? When did you leave the hall ? ” 

" I left as soon as Mr. Markham began to 
speak, and I suppose I walked home.” 

" Suppose ! Don’t you know ? ” 

“No, Mr. Field, I don’t think I do. Pos- 
sibly I ran part of the way. I think I must 
have done so.” 

“Why, Robert, what do you mean now?” 
asked Mr. Field anxiously. 

“ I mean what I say, and I have more to say 
if you are willing to hear me.” 

“ Of course I am willing to hear you. Why 
should I not be ? ” 

“ I can trust you ? ” 

“ You certainly can.” 

“Then come with me to the old stone. I 
want to feel that there is not so much as the 
shadow of a leaf between me and the heavens. 
I don’t wonder that you look at me as though 
you thought me crazed ; but I assure you I have 
not lost my reason, strange as I appear.” 

They walked on until they reached a large, 
flat stone which afforded them a resting-place, 
when Robert said in the same guarded tone he 
had used throughout the interview : 

“ I wish to tell you a secret. My mother and 


314 Tur^iing of the Wheel, 

I left England to escape from the cruelty of 
her husband and my father. From that time, 
until this evening, we have known nothing of 
him. This evening I have seen him. He was 
the speaker from abroad.” 

A single ejaculation was the listener’s only 
response to this revelation, condensed into the 
fewest possible words, and yet extending through 
a long series of years. 

“ Have I done right in telling you this ? ” asked 
his companion. 

“ I am glad you have told me,” he answered. 
'‘You can trust me, and if in any way I can 
serve your mother or yourself, you can com- 
mand me to the full extent of my ability. I 
knew that man was a villain, before he had spo- 
ken five minutes, yet he fascinated me.” 

“ I think he would fascinate any one,” said 
Robert. “ I am not sure but he could win my 
mother back to him, notwithstanding all she has 
borne from him.” 

“ And could he win you too ?” 

“ Never. I loathe the very sight of him, and 
he hates me with the most intense hatred.” 

“Are you sure of the last, Robert ? It is un- 
natural for a man to hate his own child.” 

“ He is an unnatural man. He seems to me 
an incarnate fiend. However cruel others have 


315 


A Stra7tge Night. 

been, he has been most cruel of all ; however 
wicked others have been, he has excelled all 
others in wickedness. I don’t believe another 
woman ever lived in a civilized country who has 
suffered so many indignities as has my noble, 
true-hearted mother. 

“Think of her being beaten, and then told 
that she would receive further punishment if 
she questioned her master’s authority. The 
thought of it makes the blood boil in my veins. 
I could kill the wretch from whom my mother 
received such treatment. I could kill him,” re- 
peated Robert Masters, springing to his feet. 
“ Do you wonder that I hate him ? She can 
pray for him. I curse him, and if God is just, 
he will be cursed forever.” 

Mr. Field arose from his seat, and throwing 
his arms around his companion, said gently : 

“ Robert, that is not for you to say. Think 
what it means to be forever accursed. God is 
just, even though He suffers long.” 

“ I know it, I know it,” burst from the white 
lips. “ But you don’t know the provocation I 
have had. I could bear it for myself. But for 
my mother- ! ” 

Here a flood of tears relieved the tension of 
feeling, and gradually the young man regained 
self-control. Then he expressed his fears in re- 


3i6 The Turning of the Wheel. 

gard to the man he would not call father. If 
Mr. Markham should visit Yatesville, there 
would be the possibility of a meeting. 

'' I feel sure he will discover us,” said the son. 

Would he recognize you ? ” 

“ I think he would, and no one who has ever 
seen my mother could fail to recognize her. In 
that event, we shall need friends.” 

You will have them,” was the prompt reply. 
“ I speak for myself, and I am sure I can speak 
for Mr. Yates and his family. Then the work- 
men would all rally around you. Just now they 
are prejudiced ; but if they were put to the test 
their hearts would be found in the right place. 
Tell them your story, and they would defend 
you and your mother with their lives. Percy 
Yates is your sincere friend, but he says you 
avoid him.” 

“ I do, but it is not because my feelings to- 
wards him have changed.” 

-Why, then?” 

- Because he noticed my resemblance to Gres- 
ham Carroll.” 

“The resemblance is very striking. It can- 
not be an offence to see it.” 

No, Mr. Field, but I think there is a reason 
for it, and that reason goes back into my mo- 
ther’s past life, which, up to last evening, we in- 


A Strange Night. 317 

tended to keep secret. My mother’s name was 
Gresham. Her father died before she was born, 
and her mother soon after. Then she was 
adopted by a family who gave her their name. 
But she has papers which prove her parentage, 
and some old jewelry with the Gresham coat 
of arms engraved upon it. You have seen that. 
I noticed it the first time I saw Gresham Carroll.” 

“ Do you mean that your mother has jewelry 
bearing the same crest as the studs and buttons 
young Carroll wears so conspicuously ? ” 

I do mean that, Mr. Field.” 

“Then you must be relatives of his.” 

“ I presume we are. When my mother first 
thought of coming to this country, she told me 
it was ‘probable she had relatives here, and I, 
thinking that relatives must be friends, urged 
her to try and find them. Of course, she knew 
this was impossible ; and besides, she chose to 
isolate herself entirely from the past. I have 
avoided Percy Yates and Gresham Carroll, be- 
cause she wished me to do so.” 

“ Yours is a strange story, Robert ; stranger 
than I had fancied, although I knew you were 
out of place here. Now, will you allow me to 
give you some advice ? ” 

“ I am more than willing to be advised by 
you.” 


3 1 8 The 1 urntng of the Wheel. 

“Then I advise you to communicate at once 
with Gresham Carroll’s father, and tell him what 
you have told me in regard to the coat of arms. 
If he should prove to be a relative, as I think 
he will, you will have reason to be thankful. 
He is a noble man. With his wealth, his posi- 
tion, and his influence, he would be a tower of 
strength to your mother, and a friend of price- 
less value to you both.” 

“ Will you talk with my mother about it ? ” 

“ If she will allow me to do so. But it is 
now nearly morning.” 

“ I know it is, and I know that my mo- 
ther is keeping watch. She will not sleep to- 
night, and if anything needs to be done, it 
should be done at once. I heard some one say 
that Mr. Markham intended to visit the iron- 
mills of the State, and he is so near, he will be 
likely to come to Yatesville. Is it too much 
to ask you to wait here, while I see my mother ? ” 

“ Certainly not. You cannot ask too much 
of me.” 

The young man did not leave his friend long 
alone. He returned to say that his mother 
would be glad to see Mr. Field at any time. 

Madam Masters arose to receive her guest, 
and after thanking him for his kindness, pro- 
ceeded to speak of the family of which she 


A Strange Night, 319 

claimed to be a member. This she did, in a 
manner which showed that at some time in her 
history she had thought it desirable to learn 
what she could of her father’s relatives. She 
had papers which were valuable as records of 
family transactions. She had a record of her 
grandfather’s family, the dates of births and 
deaths, with the date, also, of the time when two 
sons and a daughter had sailed for America. 

There was somewhere a large property, to a 
share of which her husband believed her enti- 
tled, and it was probably with the hope of ob- 
taining this, that he had married her. 

“Are you acquainted with Gresham Carroll’s 
father ? ” she asked, after making a concise state- 
ment of her claims and possessions. 

“ I have seen him, and I know him thorough- 
ly by reputation,” was replied. “ He is a self- 
made man, who worked his way up from abso- 
lute poverty, before he came into possession of 
a few thousand dollars left by an uncle. He is 
wealthy, although not immensely so ; and I 
judge he is not a man to care for immense 
wealth. I am very sure, Mrs. Masters, that if 
I had a claim to relationship with him, I should 
make the most of it. He would be a true 
friend to you, and advance Robert’s interests as 
hardly any one else can.” 


320 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

“ Thank you. I never intended to say to any 
one what I have now said to you, but circum- 
stances constrained me. We have to deal with 
an enemy, and may need friends. Besides, he 
must not be allowed to influence these work- 
men against their best interests, and if nothing 
else will prevent it, his true character must be 
exposed.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE TRAGEDY AT YATESVILLE. 

A STEP outside the cottage, and a quick, im- 
patient rap startled the inmates. The day was 
dawning, although they had not observed it, and 
Percy Yates, who had been too anxious to 
sleep, now appeared to inquire for his friends. 

“ Please to come in,” said Madam Masters, 
throwing wide open the door. “You see that 
we are up as early as yourself.” 

“ And Robert ? ” 

“All right,” responded Robert, with old-time 
cordiality. 

“ And, Mr. Field ! This has been the strang- 
est night. I can’t make it out at all. If any- 
body will throw any light upon it, I shall be 
thankful.” 

“ Mr. Field can enlighten you,” said the mis- 
tress of the cottage. 

“ Yes, I can,” rejoined this gentleman quickly. 
‘‘ I can explain the whole matter to you, and do 
it quite as well on our way home, as here. Our 
friends need rest. We had better leave them.” 

(321) 


21 


322 The Turnmg of the Wheel. 

We shall be glad to see you again whenever 
you will come,” said Robert, as Percy seemed 
unwilling to accept this sudden dismissal. 

“ We shall be glad to see you, with your 
friend,” added Madam Masters ; and now, look- 
ing at the speaker with some surprise, he noticed 
the pallor of her face, and the expression of 
weariness overspreading every feature. 

“ Thank you for that,” he replied in a sub- 
dued tone, and without further hesitation left 
the cottage. 

It had, indeed, been a strange night; but the 
story told, that morning, startled Percy Yates 
into forgetfulness of the immediate past. 

But, Mr. Field, that man’s name is Mark- 
ham,” he said, when he had somewhat recovered 
from his surprise. 

“Yes; Robert’s name is Robert Masters 
Markham ; so he has an undoubted right to the 
part he has retained, and his mother would, of 
course, choose to assume the same.” 

“ It is all right, as far as they are concerned. 
But if that man comes here, I am not sure but 
he ought to be lynched. The men would do 
it in a minute, if they knew what a wretch 
he is.” 

“And disgrace themselves, besides commit- 
ting a crime. We shall have enough of law- 


The Tragedy at Yaiesville, 323 

lessness without that. We must find some other 
way to protect Madam Masters.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Yates were soon made ac- 
quainted with the facts in regard to their mys- 
terious neighbors, and hastened to offer sympa- 
thy and assistance. For the time, threatened 
disturbances were forgotten. 

Directly after noon, however. Old Mike called 
the attention of Mr. Field to what, if his mind 
had not been preoccupied, he would have be- 
fore observed. There was an air of expectancy 
throughout The Works, as if some important 
event was at hand. The men who had been 
discharged were near ; quiet, yet evidently shar- 
ing the general sentiment. 

Mr. Yates and Mr. Field were both in the 
office, when two gentlemen presented them- 
selves, asking permission to examine The Works. 
This request, made in the most courteous man- 
ner, could not be refused. Mr. Field volun- 
teered to accompany the visitors ; and although 
they protested against it, he carried out his in- 
tentions ; managing, also, to notify Robert Mas- 
ters of their coming. 

The visitors were Mr. Markham, and the 
gentleman who had presided at the meeting of 
the previous evening. Both professed a strong 
desire to learn the true condition of iron-work- 


324 The Tur 7 iing of the Wheel. 

ers ; and despite the forbidding aspect c f their 
guide, they expressed themselves pleased with 
what they saw. 

‘‘ Pardon me, sir, but you ought not to bury 
your talents in such a place,’’ at length said Mr. 
Markham with his most fascinating smile. 
“ One who can electrify an audience as you can 
ought to make public speaking a profession.* 
Our views and sentiments are antagonistic, but 
I trust I can appreciate true eloquence wher- 
ever heard.” 

“ I make no claim to eloquence,” was replied 
curtly. “ I only speak the feelings of my heart 
and the convictions of my judgment. I am no 
adventurer, weaving specious arguments to lure 
men to destruction, or by their utterance gain 
the funds I refuse to earn by honest labor.” 

One would not need to be assured of that,” 
responded Mr. Markham blandly. “The most 
careless hearer would recognize your sincerity ; 
and sincerity always wins the admiration of 
every true man. But I am sure, sir, that we 
must be trespassing upon your time in a way 
we have no right to do. Pray leave us to our- 
selves to complete the tour of inspection.” 

Still the guide was obstinate, and it seemed 
probable that the gentlemen would fail to ac- 
complish the purpose of their visit. That they 


The Tragedy at Yatesville. 325 

had a purpose beyond what appeared, their 
companion did not doubt. 

^ They lingered as they pleased ; asked ques- 
tions which were frankly answered, and had 
ascended the hill, on the edge of which they 
were standing, when a slide occurred, carrying 
Mr. Markham with it, and leaving him buried 
beneath a mass of stone and slag. Perhaps, 
however, I should not say that he was buried, 
since he lay with his head and face fully ex- 
posed. 

Not a moment was to be lost. Mr. Field 
summoned assistance, and while giving rapid 
orders, accomplished more than any two who 
labored with him. Yet with their best efforts, 
it was the work of time to extricate the bruised 
and mangled body. 

Robert Masters, warned of this man’s pres- 
ence, had gone home to carry the tidings to his 
mother. Then taking a position where he could 
overlook the iron-works, he saw the accident 
and hastened to learn its extent. 

“ The man is the same as dead, only he must 
bear the pain of dying,” said one, in reply to 
his question. “ Better go up and lend a hand. 
You are the right one for such a job.” 

But Robert knew it was no place for him. 
He had said, scarce twelve hours before, that he 


326 The Ttirning of the Wheel. 

could kill this man. Did he now rejoice in the 
agony endured ? He did not know. Half 
crazed, as he had been, with fear and indigna- 
tion, he could not analyze his feelings. He 
only knew that his mother must be told. Then, 
if the old love should assert its sway, God 
pity her. At this thought, he rushed home- 
ward. 

Mother, we shall not be tro.ubled,” he cried 
almost breathlessly. 

“ How can you be sure of that?” she asked. 

“ Because he is the same as dead, only he 
must bear the pain of dying.” 

The very words spoken by another, and now 
repeated mechanically. 

“ How, Robert? What do you mean ? Tell 
me all,” she exclaimed. 

This all was comprised in a few sentences, and 
then Madam Masters whispered: 

“ I must go to him.” 

For the first time in his life, the son brought 
the force of his own will to oppose that of his 
mother. Pitiful was it to hear this queenly 
woman, who had been insulted and humiliated 
beyond the power of language to describe, now 
begging the privilege of seeing once more the 
cause of all her sorrow. 

“ No, mother, you must not so degrade your- 


The Tragedy at Yatesville, 327 

self. I ca 7 iXiO\., will not let you go,” insisted 
Robert. 

He dared not leave her alone, and so he sat, 
with her hands close clasped in his, while the 
minutes dragged slowly by. At length Mrs. 
Yates came in, and receiving a promise from his 
mother that she would remain in the cottage, 
he went out to learn what he could of the suf- 
fering man. 

The latter had been carried to a vacant house, 
where the best accommodations possible under 
the circumstances had been hastily provided. 
The physician who had been summoned said 
decidedly that nothing could be done, beyond 
administering opiates to deaden the sense of pain. 

“ He may breathe until morning ; possibly 
lonsrer, but life is worse than death to him.” 

Mr. Markham was so far conscious that he 
heard these words, and with an effort which cost 
him fearful suffering, he asked if there was no 
hope. 

“Not a shadow of hope,” replied the physi- 
cian. 

“ If you have aught to ask of God, or man, 
you cannot do it too soon. If you have friends 
for whom you wish to leave messages, you must 
dictate them now, or never,” added Mr. Field, 
who was standing beside him. 


328 The Turning of the Wheel, 

The ghastly face took on a more ashen hue ; 
the thin lips worked convulsively, and great, 
beaded drops of sweat stood on the brow of the 
dying man. It may be that his past life arose 
before him, and like an accusing spectre beck- 
oned him to judgment. 

“ Give me brandy,” he gasped. “ Brandy,” 
he repeated. “ More,” he demanded, when 
much had been given. 

This revived him, and after a short silence, 
he asked to be left alone with Mr. Field. His 
request being granted, he wasted neither time 
nor strength in unnecessary words. He had a 
wife in the city of New York, whom he wished 
to receive whatever of personal property he pos- 
sessed. He was a poor man ; but he had a hun- 
dred dollars in money, a gold watch, and a few 
other articles of value. It was more than he 
had a right to expect of a stranger ; but if his 
companion would see that his wishes were car- 
ried out, it must be counted an act of Christian 
kindness. He gave the address of his wife, and 
dictated the message she should receive. 

“ Have you any children ? ” was asked. 

“None whom I claim,” he replied. “There 
was a boy who called me father, but he and his 
mother left me, years ago, and I have never 
heard from them since.” 


The Tragedy at Yatesville, 329 

“ Should you wish to see them ? 

No — Yes — I cannot see them. They may 
be dead.” 

“ They are not dead. They are here. Robert 
has seen you.” 

“ My God ! And you know.” 

“ I know all, Mr. Markham.” 

The agony depicted upon the contorted face 
of the sufferer must have been akin to that ex- 
perienced by lost spirits, when first they realize 
their doom. More brandy was given, and again 
he spoke. 

Marian ! Marian ! — If she would forgive 
me, I should die easier. I have wronged others, 
but none as I wronged her. I tortured her. 
Does she know ? ” 

“ She knows you are dying.” 

As the afternoon waned, Mr. Markham 
seemed to grow stronger, rather than weaker, 
and it was not until evening that Madam Mas- 
ters knew he had asked to see her. 

Robert begged her not to go, but his en- 
treaties were vain. She must go. She would 
go. No power on earth could keep her from 
her husband. It would have been cruelty, then 
to tell her of the wife for whom he had express- 
ed solicitude and something like affection. 

She was so accustomed to visit the sick and 


330 The Turning of the Wheel. 

dying, that no one wondered, when she was seen 
going with Mrs. Yates to the strangely tenanted 
cottage. The younger woman soon retraced her 
steps, while Robert came near, and by a previous 
arrangement, Mr. Field dismissed the attendant. 

What passed between these two none ever 
knew ; but the son was called, and when the 
interview closed, there was no need of further 
care, beyond preparing a body for burial. 

The gentleman who had accompanied Mr. 
Markham left soon after the accident, to attend 
to ‘‘ important business elsewhere,” and did not 
return until death had set its seal upon a life so 
tragically ended. Then, with Mr. Field’s assist- 
ance, arrangements were made for the removal 
of the body, and before another morning the 
cottage was empty. ^ 

The usual routine of work went on. The men 
were serious and silent. Robert Masters was 
among them, yet not of them. He seemed to 
himself to be far away where the common in- 
terests of life came not nigh to him. He was 
thinking of his mother ; wondering how the 
days would come and go to her. When all was 
over, he told her that another would mourn for 
the man who had died ; and knowing this, she 
had resolutely put aside all signs of grief. She 
would spare her son thus much of humiliation. 


The Tragedy at Yatesville. 331 

It did not then seem necessary to expose the 
stranger’s character, in order to counteract his 
influence. Causes were at work to effect this. 

The discharged men, finding they were not 
likely to effect their purpose, sought work else- 
where, taking with them their wives and children, 
who were so distressed at leaving familiar scenes, 
that but for considerations of the future, Percy 
Yates would have tried to effect a compromise 
in their favor. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE GRESHAM COAT OF ARMS. 

Vacation days were passing quickly for Gres- 
ham Carroll, who had enjoyed more than he an- 
ticipated, and learned much, of which he had 
before been ignorant. He became a frequent 
visitor to the cottage of Madam Masters, where 
he examined at his leisure the family records 
and family jewelry. To his father he wrote a 
detailed account of what he had seen and heard, 
omitting nothing which could be considered of 
importance. 

One record was identical with that contained 
in the old Bible, brought by Marian Gresham 
from her stepfather’s house. At that time, also, 
she had worn a chain answering to the descrip- 
tion of one now in the possession of Madam 
Masters. 

Mr. Carroll decided to visit Yatesville with- 
out delay. It chanced that when he reached 
the hamlet his son was just returning from an 
excursion with Percy and Robert ; and as they 
sprang from the wagon, the resemblance be- 
tween two of the trio was very striking. “ They 
(332) 


The Gresham Coat of Arms. 333 

must be of the same blood,” was the gentleman’s 
quick decision ; and later, after a prolonged in- 
terview with Robert’s mother, the fact was es- 
tablished beyond a doubt. 

She knew far more of the Gresham family 
than did her guest. He had cared to know only 
so much as would substantiate his own and his 
wife’s claim to the property of their uncle ; but 
he now listened eagerly to whatever his hostess 
could tell him of their common ancestry. Of 
her personal history she said nothing, beyond 
explaining the cause of her coming to this 
country. 

'‘Then, I wished to hide myself from the 
world. Now, I am thankful to find one with 
whom I have a right to claim kinship.” 

This was said in reply to Mr. Carroll, who 
assured her of his friendship, and expressed a 
wish that their acquaintance might be continued. 

There was no reason why this relationship 
should be kept a secret ; and no sooner was it 
known throughout the place, than conjecture 
was again rife in regard to the antecedents of 
Madam Masters. The old gossip was revived, 
and some of this being heard by Robert, he 
proposed to Mr. Field that enough of the truth 
should be told to silence the reports then cur- 
rent. 


334 


The Turning of the Wheel. 

“ If your mother will consent, that will be 
best,” replied this friend. ‘‘Only to-day, I 
heard one of the men quoting from Mr. Mark- 
ham’s address, and extolling him as a saint. I 
was indignant, yet I held my peace, because I 
had no positive charges to bring against him. I 
shall be glad of liberty to speak, and I believe 
it will be best for all concerned.” 

Before deciding what should be done, the 
person most interested consulted her cousin, 
and with his advice gave her full consent to any 
revelation it might be thought advisable to 
make. Mr. Field chose his opportunity when 
several of the men were grouped together after 
working hours ; and joining them made a re- 
mark in regard to Mr. Markham. 

“ I suppose you didn’t like him,” said one. 

“ He was a fascinating speaker, but I knew he 
was a villain. What he said was not true ; and 
if it had been, he was not the man to say it.” 

“ How do you know that, Mr. Field ?” 

“ By his own confession. He acknowledged 
to me that he had abused his wife and son, until 
they could live with him no longer ; and you 
all know his wife is a noble woman.” 

“We know? Who is she?” 

“Madam Masters was his wife and before 
the men had recovered from their astonishment, 


The Gresham Coat of Arms. 335 

the story was told, and the narrator went his 
way. 

? “ It must be true,” exclaimed one of the 

group. “ You know Madam Masters was with 
Markham when he died ; and don’t you remem- 
ber that when we started to come home from 
that meeting, we couldn’t find Robert. It must 
be all true, and likely the truth not half told. 
And he was the man for us to hear to ! He deserv- 
ed hanging, but the Lord punished him, and I 
hope some of us have learned a lesson we shall 
remember.” 

When Mr. Carroll informed his cousin that 
she had a claim upon him for quite a little for- 
tune, she was disposed to waive this claim. She 
was satisfied with her present position, and now 
that he felt no restraint, her son could make his 
own way in the world. Both had feared dis- 
covery by the man they had left, and now 
that fear was removed, all things seemed possi- 
ble to them. 

To her joyous surprise, also, this woman 
found that the old love, against which she had 
so long struggled, was gradually losing its hold 
upon her. The companionship of her newly- 
found relatives, and the future opening before 
her, did much to dim the memory of the past. 

James Carroll insisted that she, with Robert, 


336 The Tm^ning of the Wheel, 

should accompany him to his home ; and it was 
with feelings akin to happiness that she arrayed 
herself in fitting garments, and wore again the 
jewelry which had been so long and so carefully 
preserved. 

Robert Masters, himself, hardly rejoiced more 
at the turn of events than did his friend, Percy 
Yates. There had been a tragedy, dark and 
fearful. Now it might be the romance was to 
come ; and so, indejed, it seemed to both mother 
and son, as they were received by Mrs. Carroll, 
and welcomed to her home with most affection- 
ate cordiality. 

Within a few days a transfer of property was 
made to Marian Gresham Markham, this prop- 
erty being the amount then justly her due ; yield- 
ing a fair income, absolutely available, and if 
thrown upon the market, would command its full 
value. Nothing in the whole transaction savored 
of selfishness, neither would the gentleman mak- 
ing this transfer accept as his right the gratitude 
expressed. He had only performed an act of 
simple justice and honesty. 

Every facility was afforded Robert Masters 
for examining the industries of New England, 
and studying the condition of its workingmen. 
Much of social intercourse was enjoyed ; and in 
this, as in all else, the Mitchells shared. 


The Gresham Coat of Arms, 337 

There was so much to be discussed ; so much 
to be seen and heard, that the visit of two 
months, which had seemed long in anticipation, 
was found all too short for the interests each 
day developed. The time arrived when the 
visitors must take their departure, and trusting 
to meet again, they bade farewell to the friends 
and relatives so recently discovered. 

The change in his fortune brought with it no 
change in Robert Masters’ plans. Before leav- 
ing home, he had told Old Mike, who expressed 
some fear of losing him, that he intended set- 
ting up iron-works for himself, and he should be 
sure to learn the trade thoroughly in Yatesville. 

Their faces once turned homeward, he was 
impatient for a sight of the familiar chimnies, 
with their arching wreaths of smoke and flame ; 
and even his mother rejoiced at the prospect of 
standing again within her vine-clad cottage. 

Here, a surprise awaited them. The cottage 
had been enlarged by the addition of three 
rooms upon the ground floor, and an elevation 
of the roof. To Robert’s exclamation that it 
did not look like home, his mother replied al- 
most gayly : We will make it look like home ♦ 
and soon the rooms were furnished with an ele- 
gant simplicity which suited well the tastes of 
the occupants. 


22 


338 The Turning ^of the Wheel. 

The experience of the past months tended to 
make the dwellers in this hamlet more thought- 
ful than was their wont. An earnest man had 
come among them, who improved every oppor- 
tunity for enforcing moral and religious truth. 
While doing this, he also made himself popular, 
despite his opposition to many habits of thought 
and conduct which characterized the workmen. 
He was always ready to give them assistance 
with an appearance of friendship they recog- 
nized as genuine. 

He had not come one day too soon to the 
work he set himself to do. The winter threat- 
ened to be disastrous to iron masters. There 
were combinations of men in nearly every large 
establishment who proposed to take matters in- 
to their own hands. 

Yatesville was an exception to the rule. Care 
was taken to provide the workmen with sub- 
jects of thought and interest outside their every- 
day lives. A reading-room was fitted up, and 
by various devices rendered attractive. A de- 
bating club was organized. The temperance 
society was revived, and inspired with new 
life. 

In all these movements Mr. Field was at the 
front, with his hearty, genial manners, and the 
magnetic ‘‘we” which seemed to raise to his 


The Gresham Coat of Arms. 339 

own level all whom he addressed. Not one 
among them but trusted him as their friend, 
and yet, when at their work, they felt the pres- 
sure of a stronger hand than that of their em- 
ployer. 

Mr. Yates had never before presumed to in- 
sist upon such discipline. If dissatisfaction was 
expressed, a hearing was given, and the matter 
finally settled. A slight advance had been made 
in wages, and where the amount of work per- 
formed depended upon the skill of the worker, 
he was encouraged to do his best. 

Here, too, was Robert Masters, no less faith- 
ful and industrious than when the labor of his 
hands alone provided for the support of his 
mother. His example exerted a powerful influ- 
ence ; enforcing every precept having reference 
to right living. 

There was no undertone of sadness in the 
merry Christmas greetings which rang through 
the hamlet, as the old year drew to its close ; no 
heartless mockery in the wishes which welcomed 
the new year with all its unknown joys and sor- 
rows. 

Five times had such greetings and wishes 
been exchanged, since in obedience to a com- 
mand, the justice of which he never ques- 
tioned, George Field had gone forth from his 


340 The Turning of the Wheel. 

father’s house, with the injunction never to re- 
turn until he could do honor to his name and 
parentage. 

“ I shall not return until you wish to see me,” 
was his reply, and still he waited for the sum- 
mons. 

It came at last. The second day of the year, 
he received a letter from his mother, entreating 
him to come to her. From Mr. Tolman, his 
family had learned much of his history during 
the years of their estrangement, and they were 
now impatient to see him. 

Over their meeting we may not linger. The 
long-absent son passed within the doors of the 
stately mansion ; himself a nobler man by far 
than the gray-haired sire who even then would 
have pledged him in the wine-cup. 

Here, as elsewhere, there was need of re- 
form. The curse of the laborer’s home, and 
the curse of the rich man’s home, are one and 
the same. 

Back from this visit went George Field, more 
than ever determined to do what he could for 
the general elevation of humanity. Looking 
around, with clear vision, he saw that poverty 
and wretchedness are born of sin and evil- 
doing. What had proved his own salvation 
would also save others; and gradually there 


The Gresham Coat of Arms, 341 

stole into the minds of those with whom he 
was associated some conception of the true dig- 
nity of labor. 

Mrs. Masters, who with her son had now a 
legal right to the name to which they had so 
long responded, seconded every effort for the im- 
provement of those around them. The fortune 
her husband found it impossible to obtain came to 
Mrs. Masters by the agency of a kinsman whose 
existence was unknown to her through all her 
years of waiting, and this she counted an especial 
gift, for the right use of which she would be 
held accountable. 

Gratefully she accepted this ; gratefully, too, 
she recognized the wisdom which left her de- 
pendent upon Robert, whose character had 
meanwhile been developed and strengthened by 
stern discipline of heart and hands. 

The additional wealth which came to James 
Carroll was an entire surprise to him ; and while 
some envied him, he thought how gladly he would 
exchange it all for the memory of two happy child- 
hoods. It pained him, even then, to recall his 
own early days, and those of her whose life had 
found in his love its only recompense for suffer- 
ing. So little would have sufficed for them, and 
that little was denied. 

It required strong faith to believe that all 


342 The Turning of the Wheel, 

things had been done well ; yet he knew that in 
the great plan whereby God’s purposes are 
wrought, there can be no shadow of wrong. 
Amid all discouragements, he had been brave, 
and strong, and true ; patient, tender, and lov- 
ing ; the very man to whom riches might be 
safely entrusted. 





* 





rc#' 




'' x. ''-^ 




« ,1 


’ .r^ » " D 

v:j&-iS v^ %■> ■ 

:. :'.'\V^' ''^TT** *'■ 

I 'i'*^ '• I -, *'■ *>• I ■ 'A 

ii 

th.;, '- fe. ' 





.r: 


'V 


Y:., > 




^ f 


". ’u .. - Tt j '. 

' W • •- ' • ^y.“‘ 






» ' 


’?’V' 



JK 

■ • v!i-&Jfc-\.'-:4\ 4'. 


'ri :S"- 


W v^J^. 1^ . v'X. , ..*«_. . •- r; . 


"■m 

-J 


'' '.' f*i^i 

'• 6 ^ ^.* 
I ' ' *• 


.f- 


:i’' 4 ;_.:, ag 


< '•■ » • t : .. . 1 1 ^1*^ I :'■ r" '1 

, ‘ *. . fc ' **■'.-/ * 


♦ i. 



; .■.- I'.A 3 F?S 

T . •* » * ■ < 


•t .' •^' 





'5 


>? • 


j. 


‘.^s: ’ 


« "4 :> V' : 


• *\ 



1 ?;% V. » .VTf'l 


•< * 






>. « 





i • 


■ ■ 





^ ’if a'’i^<- 



■ c '. ’■ > 'V ■ . • ' v • 

_Lj'^Li^ ■• ''• '' tj- ' VL- 

' >,v* ' :; 7 f 


.V- 


■ Ml 


'% ■•' 










■♦, .. : - I'- i Tl 

VA> ^ 

" ■ ^ 







‘*^'* v 


* » • 

- ^ V 

f* lit ■:■:•? 

■ Tuv^,. . 



^ •'> ^ '• . ^ : ■ i’i? ■'V, ,‘' , - • . , 7 



■ ^ 4 . -i " • < ■ • " 

. '^M.' li'A I . Y-^^’ A' iW' kl' 








• / 




\ 


c 


w 


I 


i 


i 


\ 


I 


V 


I 


N » 

I 

. ' ^ 

« 

u 

I 

\ > 


I 



t 

■ < 








# 



A 


/ 

. 4 


•J 




.1 «.■. • • J 


.A/ 






« » 


' / 




.■»• * 


■ ;■? :- :v i--^'*':^l:^" ' " ' -%V'-JV' ■'::' ^- --''U^ 

- r' V •■' * - .V* >'. ■ ^iK^l^hna m/ . \ 




*iX' ‘-i - ; '* ■ Y -". ' ■ --•■ *• . ■«• • :^. ' /' ^-" * - .' ■ •>^*'\^'’^ ’ ;.‘Sibh 

p«'>' .- '■ • ■:,.• '■:*• ^ ■^..v-rvv ■r--^:;H,'?,f 

- Jiwilt ■ '■ 


fS“ 

»n 




- «. 


< ■ ■^. • ' ^ .'A . AV ^r*‘ • Vv*’A^ 

•'• . k'.«f- >•* ‘•' '■'S* 

^ ■ - 


‘ • X * •'.'^ f* ■^ . 


rr - - 




- > 






' vr'’*' 


.• ‘ f 


» ^ 




■ Ff»Sc :••■' : ,'■ 

• y- *UA’ i» “ *-• " '‘o 


^ 


-.1 


« < 

ta 


; ;*r:- 



'. );••■■ ••.'>’ 

- ■ aJD'" '■ ' 

. W . . . ., ■« 

• I y • • • . • 

-• ■ :' '-z 







■W^v: V . ^ ■■ 


- 47^ • ’ ' 

• • 

' A 


V* V 

^ r 


V -r^ 

*' '1 ^ * •» 


\ --»/ Tv^* ^ i'' ’’ '■"'•■••»W 

* ^ . * / ^r * — T # • # - •« I* ^ ^ , .SEli 




V. 




i* . n 


^ ./■ V 










-.-fit; 


* ' 

p • S^^*‘ 

Wv 

• u •' , '»V*- 

• #». . 


. \ 




vV 


^ < ’Ji;? :■• ' . : 

V,. ' . r< C' » 

V-. ■'- ' 


!»i-''. -,i' 



■ i in ':,■ 


Jr'-.- .H-**:. 

Mi 

liy^' 


. 1 TO 


I 







■1 






